


Beneath the Surface

by ChangeTheCircumstances



Category: Catalyst: A Rogue One Novel - James Luceno, Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Child Abuse, Child Neglect, Coffee Shop, College, Fluff and Angst, Gen, High School, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Incest, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Orson is stubborn, Orson really needs a fucking hug, Orson's family is awful, nothing to explicit but again very dark, there will be some really sweet parts but also some really dark ones too
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-30
Updated: 2017-01-03
Packaged: 2018-09-13 10:46:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 5
Words: 26,252
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9120232
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChangeTheCircumstances/pseuds/ChangeTheCircumstances
Summary: Orson Krennic's actual life is completely different from the persona that he pushes on people at school, forcing them to see what Orson would rather be than what he is. However, the new college student living above the coffee house he works at quickly changes things when Orson realizes he's not the only one working on the puzzling mystery of a stranger.





	1. The Mysterious Tenet

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoy :)

From the outside, Orson Krennic seemed like the typical cool kid personified. He had style and wore clothes that suggested above average middle class. He went to parties and drank but still managed to be one of the top students with clear ambitions. People flocked to him and he always seemed to know the right words to say in convincing others to join some scheme.

The group that he mainly hung with were less friends and more of an assortment of acquaintances that clearly had control of the school’s social circle. Most were actually older than Orson, him being only in Third Form and thirteen. Nevertheless, even at that age, he was able to bring people in and convince them of his greatness.

Of course, one of the first things most students noticed when speaking with him was his off sounding accent. Many assumed it was because he’d traveled widely before settling down in Cambridge. He certainly had the knowledge to support that. Likewise, many also assumed that he was an only child as he never mentioned any siblings and it was clear that being the center of attention was not alien to him. Nobody had ever met or seen his parents but most also assumed it was due to their high paying jobs.

Yes, though he might have not had it all, it was clear to everyone at school that he had the smarts, looks, personality, and support to quickly advance even farther in society.

Orson Krennic’s classmates couldn’t have been more wrong.

His off sounding accent was him forcing himself to sound more English and posh. It had been pure luck that most assumed he traveled widely at a young age. In actuality, it originated from him living in Australia for the first thirteen years of his life. He also wasn’t an only child and his need for attention didn’t stem from being accustomed to being the center of attention.

In fact, it was the opposite.

Orson was the middle child of seven. It was a miracle if he spoke to his mother or father simply once during a week and he certainly wasn’t middle class, forced to share a room with his second oldest brother and older sister. His actual clothes, all hand-me-downs, were ratty and odd fitting. The clothes he wore to school had been bought through storing what little money his parents gave him, odd jobs, and occasional pick pocketing to help present the image he wished.

Because that was no easy task, Orson had become an expert in plenty of small skills like sewing to help him where a lack of money failed. He was able to fix clothes to look new or even make new outfits from scraps which continued to present the personality he wanted his classmates to believe. His want for approval and attention also stemmed from the fact that it seemed no one even looked his way back at home, except perhaps his second oldest brother. His parents focused on their youngest as Orson’s baby sister was still to little to know how to feed and clothe herself, and the eldest as it was him that practically all the money was going to for his education though he didn’t seem to appreciate it. This lack of a family bond led Orson to avoiding home altogether when he could, sleeping in libraries and churches or at a friend’s place

And the parties he always went to? He made sure to show up at the start so others noticed him but left the moment it just became a throng of drunken kids that clearly had forgotten their own names.

He acted calm and relaxed for the most part, but he was really in a constant state of stress, balancing studying with keeping his persona up while working as well. By the time he was fourteen, he had two part time jobs, one at a small coffee shop well away from his school and the other being a construction shop that he knew not a single one of his acquaintances would be caught dead in. Of course, that wasn’t enough, especially if he wanted to save his earnings so he continued with odd jobs similar to what he’d done at a younger age along with pick pocketing and more…unsavory methods.

Technically, it was pick pocketing too. At least that’s how Orson rationalized it. Grabbing a person’s money and wallet or even jewelry was simply easier if said person was otherwise…occupied. He’d always thought of himself as attractive and had been proud of his looks, particularly since he had to work so hard for them. However, he’d never thought himself mature looking until he’d been approached by an older woman.

He’d been hanging around a bar, looking for the blackout drunks when she had come up to him, certainly tipsy but not on the ground yet. Orson had almost decided to push her back and walk away when he’d noticed the size of her necklace. That not so little “little gem” helped get him through it and keeping his eyes closed through most of it while using his imagination certainly improved the experience as well.

He’d been fourteen at that point and it had happened six more times by his fifteenth birthday. However, Orson had managed to get past how much it could make his skin crawl, pushing thoughts to the back of his mind and focusing on the fact that he was keeping up his persona and even saving up for when he would finally be able to go out on his own. After all, his second oldest brother had done worse to him. He could deal with the occasionally drunk and fumbling thirty or forty year old.

It seemed that his life was going in the exact path he wanted when a college student named Galen Erso began working at the coffee shop he worked at. It wasn’t surprising as the place was only two blocks away from Cambridge University. What made the student simply stand out was how utterly truthful he seemed to be with himself while simultaneously being a complete mystery.

The first time Orson approached him, he could tell he was incredibly shy and it was obvious that he preferred remaining in his head rather than with others which made it odd that he was a barista. Nevertheless, Orson welcomed the personality as whenever they were on a shift together, even though Galen was the older one by five years, it was rather easy for Orson to take charge and control everything behind the counter. It helped he’d been working there for a year now too though it was only recently that he actually got to do anything akin to a real job.

In the first month, Orson barely got anything out of the man despite all his attempts at conversation. It wasn’t until their fifth week together that Orson found another layer.

“I didn’t know you were working today,” Orson said one day as he noted Galen coming out the back. However, he also quickly took in the bag slung over Galen’s shoulder and how his usual work clothes had been exchanged for a slightly oversized sweater and ratty jeans. His hair wasn’t in a bun either. “You’re not here for work,” he quickly corrected before Galen could respond.

He could tell his quick amendment had thrown Galen off and the man shuffled his feet before murmuring, “I live in the second upstairs flat.”

It was interesting because he didn’t sound embarrassed by his living situation, more so unsure as to why anyone would take an interest in him.

Orson simply took the information though and put it in the back of his mind as he replied, “Ah, that would explain it but I’m rather surprised you have a class this late.”

“Only time they offered it,” Galen murmured, again seeming more confused than anything.

Nevertheless, Orson saw that he might finally have an opening in getting to know more about his coworker. “When does it end?”

“At seven.”

“Got anything planned afterwards?” asked Orson. He threw in a flashy smile and hopeful eyes but those interestingly didn’t seem to work for Galen. Orson decided that it was because he was avoiding looking him in the face.

“I was going to study—”

“Perfect. I get off at seven thirty,” Orson interrupted. “We’ll go out for drinks.”

Galen looked even more confused (it was actually kind of sweet) but a quick glance towards a clock showed that he didn’t have time to argue. He just gave a hasty nod and hurried out, leaving Orson to continue working. Another worker came in not long after that and the evening went by as quickly as ever, only this time Orson had something to look forward to afterwards.

At about seven fifteen, Galen came back, immediately disappearing into the back. However, by the time Orson had clocked out, Galen was back down again. He was still in his same clothes but his bag was gone and he’d pulled his hair up again.

“How was class?” Orson asked as he walked around the counter. Almost right away, Galen started talking (finally he was talking full sentences, a conversation!) and Orson couldn’t help but show a genuine smile. Usually, those were only reserved for himself when he’d accomplished another goal. However, this in and of itself felt like a goal as Orson listened to Galen discuss the lecture for what he called statistical thermodynamics. Orson had no idea what he was talking about but simply hearing the shy, quiet man finally act passionate about something was oddly intoxicating. He could tell that Galen didn’t just open up for anyone.

Orson ended up taking Galen to a club, one which Galen was actually the perfect age for but from looks alone, it was clear Orson fit in better. He had gotten some of the people at school in before thanks to his connections with the owner and now he managed to procure a quiet place and several drinks.

The moment they were alone and out of earshot, Galen murmured, “You’re to young to drink,” and Orson couldn’t help but die laughing.

“That’s cute,” Orson said with a smirk as he took his own beer. He knew how to make it look like he was a pro at this, he had done it plenty of times before, but he didn’t actually plan on getting drunk. He honestly rarely did. Besides, tomorrow morning was Saturday and he needed to study. Nevertheless, the mirage seemed to work as Galen stared at him with an alien expression. Again, not really uncomfortable, just confused, like he was trying to work out a math problem but kept getting the wrong answer.

“So,” Orson continued, his smile purposeful in trying to get Galen to open up even more. “How long you’ve been living there? I’ve worked at that place for over a year and I’ve never seen you around.”

“It’s only been about two months,” Galen supplied. He turned silent then, as if talking all about his class had exceeded his daily word limit.

“What year are you?” pressed Orson.

“Technically second.”

“What does that mean?”

The question caused Galen to let out a soft sigh. For a moment, Orson was afraid he had already gone to far and annoyed him. However, that emotion wasn’t quite right. He waited instead for Galen to speak next and eventually he did. “Why talk to me?”

“Why not?” asked Orson. “We’re coworkers. Might as well be friendly.”

“I think being friendly and taking me out drinking while under age are two very different things.”

“You know, I think you just tried to tell a joke,” Orson smirked. “You need to work on your delivery though if you want to make me laugh.”

For a split second, Orson saw a glimmer of mirth in Galen’s eyes. In fact, Galen actually looked him in the eyes for the first time. He had already noticed the color but now Orson could confirm that despite the shyness and the distance he kept himself at, the warmth in that simple look showed what kind of person he was.

It made Orson hope he didn’t have ambitions at all like himself. Orson was ready to tear the competition apart if necessary once he actually got to go into his preferred field and he fully expected the same from others. It was obvious that Galen was not that type of person though, or at least his ambitions were rather different.

Either way, the look only lasted a matter of seconds and Orson had to stop himself from trying to lean over and get right in his line of sight again. Instead, Orson decided to try a different method of questioning. It seemed going for more personal tidbits was to much for now so Orson asked after favorite books and songs and shows. Galen had little to respond with but the titles at least gave Orson an idea of Galen’s origins. Danish perhaps, or Danish descended judging by how often the language popped up and how easily Galen’s tongue could roll off a certain name.

Nevertheless, there was still very little Galen was willing to give out, or Orson suspected he already had given out everything. Orson again decided to change tactics and started babbling instead. Seeing as Galen wasn’t giving much up, Orson spoke all about his life. He of course didn’t give a hint of what it was like for him at home or how busy his schedule usually was. However, Orson could tell he wasn’t wearing the complete mask that he usually did at school.

For one thing, there was no reason to keep up certain little lies about people that Orson actually didn’t mind or whole heartedly detested at school. After all, none of the information would get back to them. But also, in an odd way, he felt less like he was wearing the persona and more of presenting it, seeing what Galen thought of it, how he would react to it, and ultimately helping Orson to decide how to interact with Galen next.

Galen spoke about the same amount as when he’d been asked direct questions. However, the fact that he responded at all or had his own inputs helped Orson prove the man wasn’t a robot. He suspected Galen simply needed to be interested or comfortable. Orson would have bet it was the first one but as the night moved on, Galen did seem to loosen up ever so slightly (and Orson couldn’t even blame the drink as Galen hadn’t even touched his).

When they left, a good three hours had passed, most of the time filled with Orson’s voice. Nevertheless, once outside the club, Galen surprised him as he murmured, “I was probably poor company. I’m sorry.”

Orson almost said something generic but thought better of it. If he wished to learn more about Galen, he’d need to be a bit more open he suspected so he told the truth. “I honestly don’t mind hearing my own voice so you were fine.” That actually got a snort from Galen, something which Orson tried not to gawk at as he quickly continued, “But I enjoyed your discussion on statistical thermodynamics and how it can extend the law of thermodynamics to microscopic systems. I especially enjoyed the part about how you talked of microscopically modeling the speed of irreversible processes driven by imbalances.”

Now it was Galen’s turn the gawk, the man clearly unable to hide his shock at Orson’s words. “I thought-I-you were-I thought you weren’t-you weren’t paying attention,” Galen stuttered.

“I didn’t say I understood any of it,” Orson replied with a small smirk, “but I’m a good listener and you’re a good speaker once you get going.”

Galen looked at the ground but it was obvious embarrassment was only part of the emotion on his face. He seemed almost overjoyed, like he never thought anyone would simply enjoy hearing him talk. He even had to confirm his thoughts with a soft, “Really?”

“Well I certainly wouldn’t have put it all to memory if I wasn’t,” Orson replied. “So, when do you work next?”

“Day after tomorrow,” Galen said. “Afternoon.”

“Good. I should see you then. I have to go now though. Until then,” Orson supplied with a large smile. He didn’t expect Galen to do anything in the form of contact, the man only giving a small nod as they parted ways.

Nevertheless, Orson was pleased with the new acquaintance. There was something different about him that simply had Orson drawing nearer, that had him wishing they could have talked all through the night. However, there was homework to be done and he pushed thoughts away as he went to do as much as he could before falling asleep.

The next time he did see Galen, he was pleased that the man properly greeted him, no longer using the automatic greeting while he remained hunched over whatever he was doing. He actually turned towards Orson with a small, barely noticeable smile. “Hey.”

That alone made Orson giddy as he wondered what he would be able to discover about Galen in the coming weeks. He knew the process would be slow, possibly near agonizing, yet he looked forward to it. He wanted to know more about the mysterious tenet that lived above the coffee shop.

With that in mind, Orson again pressed for small talk, looking for hints about Galen’s character though he certainly wasn’t given the same freedom he had been since they were working. Still, Orson noticed over the next couple of days that Galen was growing more comfortable with him. It made the work go even faster as they cooperated more together rather than Orson taking complete control.

Normally that would have bothered Orson, but it was only work for a small coffee shop that wouldn’t really affect his life in later years. Besides, the cooperation was more of an internal, behind the scenes thing. From the outside, it still looked like Orson was the one in charge and that made accepting the cooperation easier.

The next chance he got to hang out with Galen privately was almost two weeks later. The man didn’t have a class but he had chosen to study in the coffee shop rather than his room. Orson had only seen him do it once before and that was when no one was down there, like that night. Orson suspected it was because Galen liked the atmosphere but still preferred to mostly be alone.

It was tempting to press him more, to maybe even see if he could get on his nerves as he hadn’t done it before. At the beginning, he’d been afraid of pushing the man away but now he was fairly confident he could press a few buttons without that happening. However, Orson stayed behind the counter and waited for any last minute customers as he slowly started to close everything down. After putting some of the syrup bottles underneath, he stood up and was rather surprised that Galen was right there.

“Need something?” asked Orson, reigning in his surprise for casual and suave.

“I…there’s somewhere I need to go but…I thought it might get boring while alone. I…I just thought…if you’d want to come with me—”

“Sure,” Orson replied. “Just give me five more minutes and I should be able to get out of here.”

He was curious what Galen could be taking him to, and though he remained cautious, he was positive Galen would be the last person to try and hurt him. Besides, he preferred seeing what this secret thing was and what Galen had to do. When they finally did leave, Orson noted that Galen’s bag was with him looking a bit bulkier than usual. He wondered what was in it and if the thing they were going to was some type of school function. If it didn’t really have anything to do with Galen and was just some boring event, Orson decided he could at least start to think about his conclusion for a paper that was coming up (he’d been stuck on it for a while and drowning out some dull lecture would be easy enough).

However, they didn’t head for any college building nor stop at any shop that would hold a function so late. Curiosity continued to eat away at Orson but he kept quiet for the most part, again only trying for small talk as his mind tried to figure out where they were going.

Eventually, the signs that kept appearing made Orson finally ask, “Are we going to the university’s Botanic Garden?”

Galen gave a small nod. That was certainly different and Orson wondered what kind of function could be keeping the gardens open so late since they closed at six around this time of year. Nevertheless, he pushed back to small talk as they came closer until it became obvious that there was no function keeping the park open. It was very much closed with almost all lights off making the trees and plants seem like a dark mass.

“We have to hurry so we don’t miss it,” Galen said softly, his whispering clearly showing he knew that they were about to be breaking and entering.

Orson was clearly shocked that Galen would do something like this. It didn’t seem with his character. Then again, he didn’t know what the event could possibly be. Maybe it was something spectacular enough that warranted breaking in. But what could it be?

Orson remained quiet though, not wanting to draw attention to them if a guard happened to be near.

The fact that they got into the park fairly quickly made Orson suspect that Galen had been casing the place for weeks and this was very much a planned event (though Orson doubted a second person had been intended).

Once inside, the darkness began to envelope them. There were few lights in the park since it usually was only open during daytime and it took a while for Orson’s eyes to adjust to the change. Nevertheless, Galen clearly came prepared as he pulled out a flashlight. Flicking it on, he grabbed Orson’s hand and started to pull him down the dark trails.

The sudden touch had Orson jolting but it was clear Galen didn’t notice, completely wrapped up in getting where he was going. Orson noted how warm Galen was, his hand a stark contrast to Orson’s what with his poor circulation. It was an inviting feeling, one that Orson couldn’t really remember having, particularly with the touch not even being initiated by him.

Yet in the dark of night, he felt comfortable allowing it, of relinquishing control. He felt like he could finally breathe easily and shed nearly every cover he kept. A few remained in place, permanent fixtures that had been conscious efforts in permanently changing his character. Nevertheless, Orson knew he had never felt as free as he did now, trailing behind Galen with nothing but a flashlight and stars overhead.

Eventually, they came to one of the open spaces, a gazebo surrounded by benches and a little river that babbled in the quiet. However, Galen headed for a patch of empty land instead, finally letting go of Orson’s hand. Orson instinctively clenched his hand tight, almost like he was trying to keep the feel of Galen and his warmth there. However, his eyes focused on Galen as the man checked his watch.

“We just made it,” he murmured in relief as he set the flashlight down and opened up his bag again.

It seemed that the bulky item had been a blanket as Galen took it out and quickly spread it out on the ground. It made Orson raise an eyebrow, curious but still rather cautious. However, Galen barely even glanced at him as he spread the blanket over the grass and sat down, patting the area next to him. As Orson slowly sat down, Galen turned the flashlight off and flopped onto his back.

Orson moved back a little more gracefully, hyper aware that the blanket wasn’t that big and that they were incredibly close.

Such thoughts clearly weren’t important to Galen though as his eyes remained trained on the sky instead.

Orson slowly forced himself to look away from Galen, eyes turning to the stars that were much more visible than a typical place in Cambridge. He waited, words building in his mouth as he resisted the urge to ask Galen what was going on. However, the occasional glance showed that there was apparently no reason to worry as Galen remained focused on the sky.

Forcing himself to look back up, it was several more minutes before Orson understood what they were doing there. It started off small, a little flash here and there, but then suddenly the sky was letting up with flashes at regular intervals, meteors streaking across the sky.

Orson vaguely remembered hearing from some fellow student that something like this was going on. He was amazed that something so distant could be so beautiful, the contrast of color helped by the lack of lights around them. However, after a few minutes of watching the show and noticing that it would probably be a little longer before it stopped, Orson glanced back to Galen.

He just barely saw the other’s eyes, the light of the stars streaking across them. Without consciously doing so, Orson found himself rolling over. Though the meteor shower was spectacular, he found Galen’s face to be far more entrancing. There was a wonderful look of joy there, something utterly pure and without any hidden reason. At the same time, there was an almost calculating look, an odd push and pull of just pure wonder while Galen seemed to be solving something in his head. It was wonderful to watch and Orson only realized the shower was over when Galen suddenly sat up again.

Shaking his head, Orson was momentarily blinded as Galen turned on the flashlight. However, he didn’t immediately jump up and pulled something out of his bag. He balanced the flashlight between his head and shoulder as he grabbed a pencil as well, quickly writing down something. Orson leaned over, his eyes widening in shock. He’d expected equations and numbers and observations to be written down, something mathematical and scientific. Instead, he realized the blank paper was filled with staffs rather than plain lines. He was writing notes.

“I wonder if you’ll ever stop surprising me Galen Erso,” murmured Orson, though the other clearly didn’t hear it. After a moment, Orson gently moved the flashlight from where it had been perched and held it instead for Galen. The man didn’t seem to notice in the slightest, not until he’d finished writing down the last note. When he did, the look in his eyes showed he was clearly back in reality. Glancing over, it seemed he’d also forgotten he’d taken Orson with him and he quickly glanced at his watch, his face turning red in embarrassment.

“I can’t believe I just…I’m sorry I…I just didn’t notice—”

“It’s fine Galen,” Orson interrupted, a soft grin plainly there on his lips. It was past one in the morning, certainly a habit Orson couldn’t keep up with all that he was balancing, but one night certainly wouldn’t hurt. “So, what meteor shower was that?”

Galen was hesitant, obviously feeling bad for keeping Orson out so late and ignoring him for most of the time. However, after coaxing him a few more times, Galen finally started talking, his passion showing through as he described the event they’d just witnessed.

“I would have thought this was for astronomy or something and yet you wrote music,” Orson finally said after Galen had explained it all. “I thought you were more mathematical.”

“Music is math. Just expressed in sound waves rather than a visual,” Galen responded.

The answer had Orson chuckling a bit. He was fairly sure he knew several people that would have argued with that definition. However, he decided it fit Galen just fine. “You got a title for it?”

“Opus thirty-two?”

Orson snorted. “That’s not a name. That’s a catalog. What’s its name?”

He waited and watched as Galen tried to come up with something. However, he weakly asked, “Can I get back to you on that?”

“Of course,” Orson smiled. “But I expect to know its name by the end of the week.”

Galen nodded, acting almost like he had just been given a homework assignment though the smile he shot Orson clearly showed he didn’t mind. After a moment longer, Orson helped Galen fold the blanket and clean everything up. There was no longer an urgency with leaving but Galen automatically took Orson’s hand anyways, guiding him through the dark and back to where they had entered.

Orson didn’t speak until they were out and on the streets again. “Thank you,” he said, allowing Galen to know that he meant it but still managing to mask just how gleeful the event had made him. “I don’t think I’ve ever done something like that.”

Galen smiled, pleased that Orson had apparently enjoyed it as much as he. “Maybe if…if there’s another event, I can take you to it too.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Orson grinned. He wanted to do something else then, maybe shake a hand, preferably a hug to simply feel that warmth once more. But he settled on a small wave and pointed in the direction he was headed. “Until next time.”

Galen nodded and they parted ways like they often did before, only this time there was an almost skip in Orson’s step that hadn’t been there before. He no longer was just curious about learning more about Galen. He honestly couldn’t wait to see him again simply for that small fact, to be near again. Orson had never felt so utterly drawn to a person and the part that wasn’t already enraptured with Galen was terrified.


	2. Push and Pull

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again for anyone reading this! I don't really know when the next chapter will be, only that I'm writing as much as I can. I also wanted to include some other Star Wars characters so Bail somehow ended up in this and Obi-Wan will show up soon too.
> 
> For those worried about some of the tags in this fic, those won't really apply until the next chapter.
> 
> Anyways, thanks again for reading and the kudos and I hope you enjoy :)

Galen Erso had grown up in a large city. He’d been used to having classrooms of twenty, thirty, sometimes even forty students. It meant individual time was rare and if a student was doing well enough, there was no reason to bother with them. Galen never really talked to anyone, student and teacher alike, but he got good grades and never caused any trouble so no one really paid him any mind.

Early on there’d been some bullying. However, Galen had quickly learned that if he didn’t react, it took the fun out of it for the others. Rather quickly, he had gone back to his usual routine of ignoring his fellow students while being ignored as well. Galen was content with that.

There had been one point early on when a teacher had talked about the possibility of him being somewhere on the autistic spectrum. She had suggested he get tested but his father had called it a whole bunch of hogwash and they hadn’t really had the money anyways. Galen had simply looked up what he could, decided that it probably wasn’t a far stretch from the truth, and simply continued on, content with his life.

Though he remained in the same city for his early years, his mother being Danish did allow for him to have some contact with the foreign parts of the world. Though Galen knew one wasn’t supposed to love a parent more than another, he always had loved his mother above all else. She’d always been the more understanding one, the one to sit and simply talk or hold him if he needed it. Galen did care for his father but he was a man of action, specifically physical action.

Galen could remember the first time he’d gotten beaten up by a bully. His father had tried to get him angry, told him he needed to fight back and show the bully who was boss. Galen had simply said all damage would heal and there wasn’t really any point in provoking further confrontations. He’d been seven at the time and already nothing like his father.

Nevertheless, his old man loved him, at least in the best way he knew how and that was enough for Galen.

His life, though a poor one, was a happy one. He loved going down to his mother’s little grocery store. Sitting among the fresh fruits and vegetables made him feel like he was miles away from the city and it was an easy place to think as it never really was packed. He knew that it probably would have been better on their family if the store had been busier, but Galen had been happy simply knowing he had a safe space to always go to.

Galen didn’t really have that connection with his father, the man’s work being a miner. He drove out of the city for it and sometimes on long projects would even stay away for days. Galen always wished him the best and when he came back, dutifully listened to whatever story his father had to say. Galen never was really interested, but he sat anyways, his mind usually on a whole slew of other things.

Those other things were topics, theories, and problems far more advanced than was normal for someone of his age. Nevertheless, he kept almost all of it in his head or in notebooks, choosing to never show it to others. What some would later call genius thus remained undiscovered until he was seventeen and a junior in high school.

It had been pure accident actually, his meeting with Bail Organa. The young man had apparently gone to the high school Galen attended and had come for a talk trying to get the youth interested in politics. Though only twenty-seven, the man had made great leads in his political career and change for the city. Galen had never liked politics so he had focused on his notebook, scribbling about perpetual motion as he looked back on former notes and equations he’d written down.

So wrapped up he’d become in his work that he only realized that the entire lecture was over with when he’d looked up and Bail Organa had been standing in front of him.

Galen blinked, utterly confused by the other’s presence. He looked around and noticed that the auditorium was empty. “Where is everyone?”

Bail chuckled, the sound deep and warm. Even though Galen had still been confused, the noise had eased him somewhat as the man continued, “They all left. It’s over.”

“Oh.” Galen started to pack up, figuring that he could finish his work at home when Bail suddenly stopped him.

“May I?” asked Bail, gesturing towards his notebook.

The simple question had utterly shocked Galen. No one had ever asked before. No one had ever really cared. His hand had shaken when he passed the notebook over. He watched, fully expecting the man to laugh again, calling his work pointless scribbles. Instead, he’d handed it back with a small smile and said, “This is remarkable.”

“It’s just notes,” Galen replied, unsure of what the man saw.

“It’s amazing is what it is. Have you not shown it to anyone?”

Galen shook his head.

Cocking his head to the side, Bail scratched his beard and asked, “Where are you thinking of going to college?”

“I’ll probably just work for my mom. We don’t really have enough for college.”

“What if I talked to some people? About your notes? I think I could help get you to college,” Bail replied.

“What for?”

“What do you mean?”

“Politicians always say one thing and mean another,” Galen replied, his voice growing uncertain. “Right?”

Bail actually laughed though, the sound just as warm as before. “I suppose you’re not far off from the truth. If I’m being honest, getting something in the headlines like ‘local politician finds undiscovered genuis’ certainly wouldn’t harm my career.”

An awkward silence fell and Galen blinked in response.

“That was meant as a joke,” Bail said awkwardly with a little cough and a laugh that was far more uneasy.

“Oh. Sorry,” Galen murmured.

“No, don’t be. It was in poor taste anyways,” Bail said with a quick wave of his hand before returning to a genuine smile again. “Honest though, I simply think it awful if you aren’t at least given a chance. Particularly if you enjoy your work.”

“I do,” Galen agreed.

“So do you mind if I speak to some people?”

Galen had shaken his head. He figured that it didn’t really matter though as nothing would come of it. “Here,” he said. “You can keep this too.”

“Are you sure?” asked Bail as he took the notebook.

“I have plenty more at home,” Galen replied as he finished packing up.

“I’m Bail Organa by the way,” the man finished with a large smile.

Galen had just frowned, unsure why he would say that. “I know,” he simply said and started to walk away.

He heard a chuckle from behind him though and turned when Bail asked, “What’s your name?”

“Galen Erso.”

And with that, Galen’s entire life changed. At first, months passed and Galen even finished his junior year before Bail got back to him. However, when he did, Galen was shocked that it wasn’t to say sorry and to explain that nothing had worked.

After the first scholarship had been pushed on him, more and more had just continued coming. Despite all the offers and even the chance to finish high school early, Galen chose to stay at home one more year. He figured it was the right thing to do. You finished high school and then went to college. You couldn’t just skip ahead.

Bail had suggested he do otherwise but had respected his decision nevertheless and as Galen went through his final year of high school, they had written to each other often. However, it wasn’t until Galen found out about his mother’s cancer that he realized that Bail had become what most would call a friend.

Nevertheless, even with Bail being in congress by the time it happened with plenty of money and connections, nothing had really been able to stop the cancer.

Galen remembered how hard he’d cried at her bedside and how he had sobbed harder when Bail had hugged him during the funeral. Even with that tragedy, he’d finished high school, in a large part for his mother, but then only a month later, a mining accident occurred, putting his father into a comma.

He hadn’t pulled the plug right away, a small, foolish part of him hoping that something would change. Yet eventually the rational side of Galen won over. He looked over everything just to make sure the doctors hadn’t overlooked anything, but the conclusion was still the same.

At his father’s funeral, Galen had forced himself to cry just as hard as he had for his mother. With his father, it hadn’t been as sudden and again, he still loved his mother more. Yet he felt it unfair if he cried only a few tears rather than the buckets he’d done for his mother. Again, Bail had been there, arm around his shoulders as Galen cried into the crook of his neck.

After that, Galen had momentarily moved in with Bail and his wife. Bail had insisted and, if Galen was being honest, for the first time in seemingly forever, he preferred to not be alone. With Bail’s help, he sold off the house, the store, everything. Others might have wanted to hold onto such areas what with the memories that filled them. For Galen though, the memories were enough and the buildings were pointless if his mother and father weren’t alive to live in them.

Because of the harsh circumstances, Galen didn’t begin college until he was nearly nineteen. Nevertheless, the work that he presented had colleges around the world grasping for him. He’d eventually chosen Cambridge, it being a top school and also for one simple promise to his mother.

“See the world. I know you like living in your head and I don’t mind. But I don’t want you to miss out on everything.”

Bail had thought the move a little extreme but had been supportive nonetheless, helping to get Galen to England, actually helping with everything. There were plenty of aspects of common sense that completely flew over Galen’s head and he would have been lost if not for Bail. It was also Bail’s support that had helped Galen push himself to move into the flat above the coffee shop right before the start of his second year.

Not that Galen had hated the dorms at Cambridge, but they hadn’t held any feeling of privacy or safety, not what Galen was looking for anyways. With his own flat, he could make it to suit his needs and the coffee shop downstairs made it useful as Galen chose to get a job as well.

Though the scholarships he’d received covered everything at school and then some, Bail had still been selflessly helping out and Galen didn’t want Bail to feel that he’d have to do that forever. Besides, he rationalized that maybe it would help with his social skills. He had never really needed them except now people were paying attention to him, people actively sought him out and took interest in what he was doing.

Galen still wasn’t used to that and he hoped that putting himself out there like with a job would change that.

Those first few weeks didn’t exactly make him sociable though. In fact, Galen had been sure he was falling more and more into a shell instead. And then he’d finally been put on a shift with Orson Krennic, a kid that acted like he could get others to do anything for him with a simple word. Galen supposed that wasn’t far from the truth. The guy had forced him to go out for something other than school or grocery shopping which was a miracle in and of itself.

In fact, there had to be more there when Galen had taken Orson too the meteor shower. A small part of him had said he’d regret it if he didn’t, that he’d never be friends with Orson if he didn’t push too. And that was the really miraculous part, wasn’t it? Galen actually wanted to be friends with him.

It was different than with Bail. Galen looked up to Bail and saw him almost as an older brother. With Orson though, he wasn’t sure what he potentially saw Orson as. Perhaps a puzzle, something to work with and solve. Yet he couldn’t deny that it made him feel warm, meeting someone else that took an interest in him, not his work but _him_.

Orson wasn’t really interested in his classes, more so why he took them and what he got out of them. The only other person that had ever felt remotely that way had been Bail, yet Galen could tell the two relationships were different. For one thing, Galen knew who Bail was. At the start, he’d been wearier with his preconceived notions of what a politician was meant to be. However, he now knew Bail was incredibly truthful and everything he did was out of his innate belief to help his fellow man. There was no slimy alter ego sitting there. Bail was simply Bail.

Orson was harder to pinpoint though and Galen couldn’t help but feel that there were a million and one layers to him. He seemed to work hard on seeming in control, at keeping this cool and collected personality that was practically the exact opposite of Galen. Yet there were moments, honestly a lot like the meteor shower, where Galen saw glimpses of other personalities. Some were quieter and kinder, a few times Galen could see that if Orson only let go he might explode.

It made Galen all the more curious about Orson’s past and life outside of work but what little he got out of that seemed well rehearsed and untrustworthy. Because of that, Galen gave Orson just as little information on himself. Normally he wouldn’t have cared. He was usually more straightforward, saying it all in one go just to get it over with so people would stop with the questions. But with Orson, he held back, only giving something when he felt that Orson had revealed something about himself as well.

The real conversation they had, as far as revealing parts of themselves went, was when Galen invited Orson to his apartment.

A little over a month had passed in their friendship, two and a half weeks since the meteor shower, and Galen had managed to push off Orson’s insistence in figuring out a title for his piece. For one thing, Galen wanted to make sure that the name fit and for another, he actually wanted to have Orson hear it.

A smaller part of Galen had also assumed their connection would have crumbled by then but seeing as it hadn’t, Galen thought it the perfect opportunity to give a little and see what Orson gave back.

That night after they had both closed up the coffee shop for the owner, Galen had taken him upstairs to the second floor. He could tell that Orson detested the mess in Galen’s one room apartment and said as much. However, that didn’t keep him from becoming enthralled with the scrawled writing on the scattered papers.

After making a cup of tea in the mini kitchen area, Galen took Orson back to the main room. It connected the two flats as it had originally been one huge apartment before the owner had split it into two. Galen rarely sat in the area, preferring his own room. However, he took Orson to it now as there was a piano there that he’d been permitted to use if he ever wanted to.

“Sit,” Galen murmured, gesturing towards the couch as he sat at the piano.

“What, no sheet music?” asked Orson with a raised eyebrow.

Galen shook his head. “I’ve got it memorized.”

Orson snorted, sounding somewhat amused yet completely unsurprised. “Well, have you finally named the thing?”

Galen nodded. “ _Stardust_.”

“How generic,” sighed Orson.

“You didn’t let me finish,” Galen softly replied. “ _Stardust: A Death that Brings Life_.”

With that, he began to play, not allowing Orson to stick any other comments in. He half expected the younger to try and say something anyways, yet he remained quiet throughout. Galen occasionally managed the small glances in Orson’s direction as his fingers played. The looks that he managed to see nearly caused Galen to mess up, surprised by Orson’s utter amazement and the way he was looking at him.

However, Galen simply refocused on the keys, pushing himself to the very end. Once the final key stopped, almost abrupt in its noise, he leaned back with a heavy sigh. He finally fully turned to Orson and saw that he was literally on the edge of the couch, mouth open and eyes wide. It made him look his age, contrasting sharply with his usual suave demeanor.

“That…I honestly wasn’t sure if you’d be able to play,” Orson managed to get out. “That was amazing!”

Galen was shocked by the sudden hug that occurred. He managed an awkward pat but what with the surprise and also the way his arms were pinned at his side, it was really the best he could do.

“When did you learn?!” asked Orson excitedly.

“Last year. They said I needed an arts credit.”

Orson finally let go, standing up properly and shaking his head. “Seriously? You’re insane Galen.” He laughed though and smiled down at him. “And you really did just pick it up like that?”

“Well it did take time to learn,” Galen responded. “I don’t think anyone can just pick something up and be a genius.”

“Your own skill with math makes that statement obsolete,” Orson declared with another smirk. “Do you play any other instruments?”

“No, do you?”

Orson shook his head.

“Anything in the arts?”

Galen watched in curiosity as it seemed clear that Orson was about to shake his head no. However, his expression betrayed that he was probably making some calculated move as he finally answered, “I draw.”

“What?”

“Well I can do just about anything but I actually plan to go into architecture,” Orson replied.

Galen normally would have taken such information and simply stored it away in case it became useful later on. However, Orson’s tone of voice suggested that it was something that he actually enjoyed and not a preconceived lie or skewed truth like everything else seemed to be. Not only that, but Galen was honestly curious about Orson’s hobbies, his wants, his dreams. He really did want to know more and asked as much. “Do you have any of your drawings with you?”

Usually Orson didn’t carry anything with him to work but on this occasion, he had his backpack with him. Even better, the younger nodded and hurried back into Galen’s room where he’d placed it. Galen slowly followed and found Orson perched on his bed (a bit presumptuous) with a sketchbook in hand.

Galen sat next to him as Orson flipped through the book, showing what he liked most and describing what he’d drawn. Though some of the realistic drawings were particularly good, Galen admittedly liked his technical work and designs for future buildings even more so.

Their talking went on for some time and Galen was able to tell that the passion Orson spoke with was different from how he usually talked. Now Galen could truly tell the fake persona apart from what seemed to be the real Orson, or at least a fraction of him.

He talked for so long, and Galen was so enthralled that he hadn’t had the heart to stop him. When Orson did finally take a break in speaking, Galen noted how late it had turned and quickly offered to make up a space for Orson to sleep, though only if it was alright if he didn’t go home.

After some back and forth, Orson ultimately slept in his bed and Galen took the couch in the main room. It was a simple arrangement and Galen really didn’t mind, especially since he’d kept Orson up so late. However, the strange thing was how quickly it became a habit.

Galen thought about asking after Orson’s parents but he knew Orson would likely want to know about his and Galen wasn’t quite sure if he was at that level of sharing yet. In his frequent letters to Bail, he had already written about Orson but now talk of him was less in curiosity or amazement and more in worry.

Bail was reassuring as ever and even called him a few times over it. He asked questions that Galen never would have thought of yet his answers seemed to be the right ones as Bail assured him that Orson was likely fine. If anything, it was just good that he seemed to have a friend that he could so easily trust.

And Galen felt that Orson did trust him. Obviously not with everything but it seemed to be more than what he gave other people. Sometimes he’d even say something that had his confidence momentarily breaking, like he was afraid he’d revealed to much to Galen. The changes in his eyes were the biggest giveaways yet Galen never really could figure out what it was that Orson thought he had said wrong.

Nevertheless, Galen began to think of the relationship as a true friendship after he began counting the time that they had known each other in months instead of weeks. He didn’t see Orson every day, yet almost every time they worked together, particularly if they were closing the coffee shop, Orson slept over which led to plenty of time for talking and revealing more about each other.

The first time they really broached the subject of family though was when Orson came calling on Christmas day. The coffee shop was closed so there shouldn’t have been any reason for him to be there. All Galen could do was stare but Orson easily replied, “I wondered if you’d be heading somewhere for the holidays.”

Galen shook his head, still somewhat confused. Bail had of course offered like before but Galen had declined this year, mainly because there was a project that was due soon but also because he didn’t want to feel like he was overstaying his welcome with the rest of Bail’s family. Galen knew he was welcomed with Bail, and even his wife Breha, but the rest of their large family was a bit more difficult to deal with. However, all he settled on was, “Nowhere else to go.” The words could be interpreted in different ways yet the overall implication was that Galen didn’t really have a family, at least not parents and a family home that he could go back to. “What about you?”

“No one to really miss me.”

That was even more telling as the way Orson said it suggested that he did have living relatives of some sort, but clearly the relationship wasn’t a good one. Galen didn’t try to push farther though and simply moved aside.

“I don’t have much in the way of food or drink but the neighbors gave me a bottle of wine.”

“Sounds perfect,” sighed Orson. He walked through the main area and into Galen’s room where he flopped down on the bed.

Galen watched him for a second, curious if Orson would do anything, but the other seemed content in laying there. He decided to head where the wrapped bottle still sat. However, upon pulling it out, he realized he didn’t have anything to pop the cork with. As he looked around, slightly lost and confused, he turned back to Orson who had finally sat up and was gesturing forward.

“Just bring it here,” he said and Galen did as asked, rather surprised when Orson managed to wiggle the cork out with his teeth. “Got any glasses?”

Galen didn’t respond, instead choosing to walk over to his small kitchen area where he grabbed two mugs, the only cups he had.

“Good enough. Come on. Let’s celebrate this blasted holiday, hmm?”

There was a bitterness in Orson’s voice that had Galen frowning as he handed Orson one of the mugs. It seemed like the holidays were a sore point for Orson, sore enough that he was even letting his discontent show.

Orson filled their glasses up, perhaps more than he should have. He certainly downed his faster than Galen liked. Because of that, he tried to think of something quickly and said, “There’s supposed to be a really heavy snowfall tonight. Biggest one in a few years. We could have a snowball fight tomorrow.”

His words had Orson giving him an incredulous look but it at least stopped him from filling his glass right away.

Eventually though, Galen stopped purposely saying things to keep Orson talking and away from drinking. It turned to just talking and Orson’s tone finally stopped sounding so bitter. Nevertheless, the relaxed nature meant Galen didn’t feel a need to focus on their consumption which meant he was rather confused when the bottle was actually empty.

He blinked, equally confused as Orson turned the bottle upside down. A single drop fell and hit Orson in the chest.

Wait, when had they gone from sitting to lying?

Galen wasn’t sure and he tried to remember what they had just been talking about but only snippets really came back. Before he could try and think to much though, he felt Orson roll over, practically on top of him, as he displayed a sheet of paper.

“Here. Wasn’t going to give you but to hell. Merry Christmas,” muttered Orson.

“Grammars off,” Galen managed, having to speak a bit slower than normal to get the words out correctly.

“I’m finely speaking. Thank.”

The distorted words had Galen giggling, the alcohol definitely having gotten to him as he tried to focus on the picture. It took him a moment before he managed to figure out what it was of.

“You drew me.”

Orson just hummed, relaxing against his chest as Galen tried to make out the picture better. It was of him but it wasn’t, parts and pieces breaking off into fractals. It was a wonderful representation of Orson’s skill as an artist, both his realistic detail and his more technical work what with some of the sharp, broken pieces. Galen wanted to say all that to him but all he managed was, “Beautiful,” before trying to place it on his bedside table. He failed miserably and the paper fluttered to the ground. There was no way Galen would be able to retrieve it at the moment either, what with Orson’s entire weight pressed against him. Galen was pretty sure that if he tried to move at all, the two of them would simply topple off the bed.

Because of that he remained where he was, mumbling random thoughts every now and again. At one point he started restating the law of thermodynamics. He wasn’t sure why. It just seemed like a good idea. However, he was interrupted by a pair of lips that met his.

The kiss was sloppy and landed more on the corner of his mouth than anything but it took Galen several long, painstakingly slow moments to finally push Orson back. Even then, it didn’t really work as Orson simply changed to kissing his chin.

Still, it at least allowed Galen to mumble, “You’re to young.”

“Not,” replied Orson as he moved from his neck to his throat.

The feeling had Galen’s entire body tingling but he managed to push Orson’s weight mostly off him though the younger still remained clinging to him, head resting on his chest now.

“Come on,” muttered Orson.

“To young,” repeated Galen with a shake of his head that he quickly regretted. He just barely caught Orson’s next words, “Not the oldest.” which had worry spiking in Galen. What did those words mean? It certainly couldn’t be anything good. He tried to ask as much but Orson was already asleep and Galen didn’t have the heart to move him.

He ended up falling asleep not long after and when he woke up, Orson was still pressed against him though he was now groaning softly, clearly already awake.

“How much?” Orson muttered, one arms still slung around Galen as he buried his face in his chest.

“About half a bottle. Think you had a bit more though,” whispered Galen, his head slightly spinning.

Orson just groaned again, his hand gripping Galen tighter. Galen was about to say they should get up but quickly decided against it. Water, water was good for a hangover but he still wasn’t sure if he’d actually succeed in making it to his sink. Because of that, he remained there and fell asleep again without even realizing it. The next time he woke up, the pain in his head was minimal and Orson was still asleep. Gently, he moved the other off him as he headed for the restroom. After that, he went back to the kitchen area and washed out the two mugs they had used last night, pouring water into both. As he walked back over, he placed the mugs on the bedside table and bent down, picking up the picture from the night before.

Now with his head somewhat clearer, he could appreciate the artistic work far more. He couldn’t help but smile at it before he glanced up to see Orson staring at him. The blankets obscured most of his face so only one eye blinked at him. Galen noticed how the usual confidence wasn’t there and Orson muttered, “You weren’t supposed to see it.”

“You can have it back,” Galen offered, somewhat confused.

“Doesn’t matter now. You saw it.”

“Well I do like it,” Galen replied.

Orson blinked. “Really?”

“It’s wonderful,” Galen reassured him as he carefully placed the picture to the side. He didn’t want to accidently ruin it but as he turned back to Orson, another thought passed over. “You kissed me.”

The look made it clear that Orson didn’t actually remember it. His words were even more shocking, sounding broken and full of disgust at himself. “I’ve ruined this haven’t I? You hate me.”

Galen shook his head as Orson sat up. “No. Why would it?”

“I-you just said—”

“You’re still my friend Orson,” Galen replied. “And you were drunk. I don’t blame you.”

Orson shook his head though, clearly something else bothering him. There was some connection he was making, something which made the situation far worse than Galen had first thought. Galen tried to remember what Orson had said last night but couldn’t think of anything as Orson muttered, “Was I that bad?”

“You’re to young.”

The words surprised Orson. They surprised Galen as well as he had just said what came to mind. Though he could barely remember the kiss, he didn’t mind the _idea_ of Orson kissing him. It seemed right somehow.

“I’m only five years younger,” Orson finally managed. His words were shocking, suggesting that he didn’t mind the thought either.

However, Galen shook his head. “You’re still a kid.”

Orson made a face and looked like he was about to argue but quickly stopped and thought better of it. Galen wondered what had happened to Orson that the other could use in an argument. He wondered if Orson would have just complained or if there was something that Orson rationally thought made him an adult.

The thought worried Galen but before he could think more on it, Orson added, “Is our friendship not ruined?”

Galen shook his head.

“If I was older, would you have…” Orson trailed off and Galen found he couldn’t answer. He hadn’t looked at Orson that way before and it still felt wrong even if Galen could admit he liked the idea of kissing Orson again. The younger took the silence as something else though as he pushed himself up and muttered, “I should probably go.”

“At least take a shower first,” Galen quickly replied.

That actually got a snort from Orson. “Are you saying I look terrible?”

“Well I’m sure you look better than me, but that probably isn’t saying much,” replied Galen which got Orson to at least laugh.

“Fine, got nothing better to do,” Orson sighed.

Galen showed him where everything was that he might need before going and grabbing some clothes as well. Orson took his time so Galen busied himself with working on the project that would be due near the beginning of the next semester. He didn’t notice Orson was out until the other moved in front of him. Orson wasn’t much shorter than Galen yet he certainly wasn’t as wide as he nearly drowned in the sweater that Galen had loaned him.

“Schoolwork?” questioned Orson with a glance at Galen’s papers.

Galen nodded. “You can look at it. I’m going to take a shower.”

Orson simply nodded as Galen left his side. A part of him wondered if Orson would be gone once he got out. He was afraid that once Orson left, the comfortable nature of their relationship would break and that their friendship would shatter. Everything he had said had been the wrong move. He ruined the one thing that had begun to matter, the one seemingly mutual relationship he’d ever been able to create.

However, when he walked out, Orson was still there, leaning against the window as he glanced over. “You said something about a snowball fight, right?”

Galen blinked. He couldn’t say for sure if he had suggested that but he nodded anyways.

“Well, now would be as good a time as any,” Orson simply said, grabbing his shoes and putting them on.

Galen silently followed suit, the two grabbing their jackets and hats and scarves as well. Orson led the way out onto the snow filled street. It was already midday but it looked like only a couple of cars had braved the snow, meaning most of the street was still untouched. All the shops were still closed and it seemed that anyone who might live in a flat above had decided to stay in.

That was just fine though as Galen quickly found that once Orson got into it, he really didn’t like to lose. It matched his personality but they had never really done anything that pitted them against each other. Galen found himself sweating through his layers despite the cold as they went back and forth, shouting taunts at the other as they aimed their snowballs.

Eventually they had even pushed up sections of snow to form barriers, protecting them from the other’s rain of metaphorical bullets. At one point, Galen ducked behind one of his structures, quickly forming a snowball before his head popped up again. However, he didn’t get a chance to throw it as Orson came barreling through the mound of snow and landed on top of him.

“I think I win,” Orson said smugly as he took a snowball he’d been holding and tapped it on Galen’s nose.

“I think you cheated,” Galen replied.

“We never really established any specific rules so how could I have cheated?” chuckled Orson.

Galen looked up and could tell what Orson was thinking. He just shook his head ever so slightly and Orson sat back up, allowing Galen to breathe easily. If their relationship continued, if Galen remained friends with him in the coming years and he was older…maybe. But he couldn’t do anything, not now, and he couldn’t help but breathe a sigh of relief as Orson seemed to at least understand that.

They had gone back inside, fingers and cheeks bright red from the cold. Orson ended up staying another night and again, and they fell asleep on the bed together though this time with more of a respectable distance from each other. Still, Galen woke up with Orson’s hand clenching his shirt, as if in sleep he wished to pull him closer.

The next day, Orson did leave, claiming he had other things he had to do and he had already put them off. Despite how the last day had gone, and that Orson had even chosen to stay for as long as he had, Galen was sure Orson would disappear, that the relationship would just be to awkward and off and neither would be able to do it.

It didn’t help that Galen didn’t see Orson for a while and he feared that they had both parted ways. Yet the next time Galen was at work, Orson was there, smiling and looking just as happy as ever to see him.

Their relationship continued. Orson still came over, they still talked and chatted, still slowly fought to find out more about the other. The only thing that really changed was that when Orson slept over, Galen didn’t feel the need to move to the couch. It was an unspoken agreement and Orson never tried to make it anything more though he did occasionally end up wrapped around Galen when they woke up.

But their relationship did succeed in lasting for over half a year. The fact that Galen could say they had been friends for over half a year was wonderful in and of itself. Yet throughout that entire time, Galen still barely knew anything about Orson’s family life.

That changed though, and not in a way Galen expected. The spring semester was in full swing and it was starting to get warm again. Galen was working a shift with Orson, everything going as it usually did, when a man came in. Galen immediately noted the similarities in his features with that of Orson’s which made his eyes turn to his friend.

And he saw…a change. All Orson did was say, “Can you man the front by yourself for a second?”

Galen nodded.

“Alright, I’ll just be a few minutes,” Orson replied as he headed for the little hall that led to the bathrooms, the other man automatically following.

Part of Galen was sure he imagined what he saw. The few patrons in the coffee shop barely even gave the two a glance. Orson wasn’t acting any different, he seemed fine.

But at the same time he didn’t. There had been a change in the posture, something had been lacking. Orson’s control, it was gone, fully relinquished to whoever followed him out of sight of the others. And his tone had been off, just a bit. Galen didn’t think he was imagining the changes. Something was different. Something was about to happen that had Galen’s stomach dropping. He looked to the front and saw that there weren’t many people on the street and no one was coming in. He waited several more seconds but when no one came in and Orson didn’t reemerge, he decided to take a chance. He got out from behind the counter and hurried after Orson.


	3. Breaking the Pattern

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, a big thank you to those reading and leaving kudos and comments. It means a lot and I hope you enjoy this chapter!
> 
> ***Also, all the tags are really directed at this chapter. It isn't to explicit but it does deal with some very dark subject matters so tread carefully if you're sensitive to such subject matter.***

Orson could figure out he was falling for Galen. He wasn’t stupid. He spent more time with him than anyone else and would probably call Galen his first and only friend. It didn’t help that Galen did things that most would have considered romantic like stargazing (which they did several times), or that Galen would automatically pull him along when going somewhere, his hand warm and comforting.

From Orson’s side though, he was also giving just as much, letting Galen in far more than he would have with anyone, something that he rationalized as it seemed the only way to get anything out of Galen. However, if he was being honest, it was also because he didn’t mind being around the older man. Despite their different interests and ways of thinking, Orson felt like he was Galen’s equal and he had never felt that way with anyone else. He’d always fought to be better than others but with Galen, he was content with standing by his side.

Even more amazing was the fact that Orson, though not exactly happy, would deal with waiting for Galen. The fact that Galen actually had any morals was refreshing in and of itself and after the initial shock, Orson had learned to deal with the boundaries that Galen had drawn, comforted by the fact that the attraction wasn’t completely one sided.

But something he never wished to divulge to Galen was his family. That was one secret he was fully prepared to take with him to the grave. However, the arrival of his second oldest brother at the coffee shop had those hopes crashing to the ground. It had been a long time since…last time. Nearly a year. He’d thought he was done with him, finally had grown bored. It seemed he’d been wrong.

He checked with Galen to make sure he’d be alright before he quickly left and headed towards somewhere that would be out of sight of the patrons. He’d meant to throw a reassuring smile at Galen to but had been unable too. For once, Orson could just barely force some semblance of being alright. But it was good enough. Orson was sure of that. It had to be. He just had to get it over with as soon as possible.

The male bathroom was empty so Orson walked in, not surprised to hear the lock click behind him.

“So this is where you’ve been hiding out. I knew you had to be going somewhere since you’re never home,” his brother said as Orson turned around.

“It’s something to do,” Orson simply murmured. He could hear how monotone he’d turned, unable to get any feeling into the words. It was the easiest way to deal with this. Just pull away. Pull away like it wasn’t happening.

“You know, if you’d only ask me I’d get you whatever you want,” his brother replied as he moved closer, causing Orson to press his back against the wall. Orson could remember the early days when that had worked. His brother stealing food and toys and knickknacks that his parents wouldn’t bother with. He had thought it meant his brother cared.

“You’re as poor as mum and dad,” Orson softly said.

“You know I’d find a way,” his brother chuckled as he pushed against him, hand working at his pants.

Orson simply stood there, drowning out his brother’s words with a humming noise inside his head. He barely even registered when his brother’s hand moved into his boxers, skin meeting skin. Orson simply kept still. He just had to let it happen and then it would be over—

“Orson, are you alright?”

Galen? No, he couldn’t see this! He couldn’t know. He hardly noticed his brother’s warning look as he said, “I’m fine. I’ll be back in a moment Galen.”

However, the way one of his brother’s hands tightened around his cock and the other around his throat showed he hadn’t been that convincing. He needed to sound more assured. He needed to sound fine so he forced the words out of his throat. “Really Galen, it’s alright.”

“What’s wrong little brother? You’re usually better at this,” hissed his brother, his hands tightening to the point of painful.

At the same time, Galen yelled out, “Orson please just open up!”

“Christ, doesn’t this guy quit?” growled out his brother.

Orson tried to tell Galen to go away again but his brother suddenly crushed his throat before letting go. He felt himself slide down as he desperately tried to get in a breath as his brother growled, “It’s been months and this how you treat me. Really Orson, once I get rid of him you’ll be punished for this.”

His brother turned towards the door. Orson immediately closed his eyes. He didn’t want Galen to see him like this. He didn’t want him to get involved.

After the door was unlocked, he heard his brother say, “Listen you, this is none of your business and—”

A noise like the door being fully forced open was heard and then a sudden cry of pain quickly followed. Orson’s eyes flashed open, fully expecting to see Galen on the floor as guilt washed over him at having gotten Galen involved. However, instead he saw Galen standing tall, one fist clenched tightly with the knuckles torn. On the floor was his brother, blood dripping from where his teeth had torn through his lip.

“You bastard!” yelled his brother, speech distorted by the injury. “You have no right—”

“Get out,” interrupted Galen, his voice soft and trembling. Orson thought it was with fear until he glanced into his eyes and he saw the truth. It was anger that was fueling Galen as he repeated himself. “Leave before I call the police.”

“This has nothing to do with you!” his brother roared, pushing himself up and at Galen.

However, Galen managed to grab him and swing around so that he was now in between Orson and his brother. He pushed the elder one out the bathroom door and onto the floor, taking one more step forward before he said, “If you ever come near Orson again, I’ll kill you.”

Silence stretched on for a moment before Orson watched his brother shake his head, stand up, and actually back off. He’d never seen anyone succeed in standing up to him yet Galen didn’t budge an inch.

“You think you can scare me? I’ll be back,” he spit out, blood hitting the floor. However, he did turn to leave and as he was presumably gone, Orson suddenly heard the noise of people trying to get near to see what had happened.

Even if Orson’s throat hadn’t been hurting, breathing still would have been a near impossibility as his chest heaved but no air went in or out. He couldn’t let people see, they couldn’t know, not like this, not like this—

“Orson.”

He glanced up and into Galen’s face. His body blocked everything else from view so that if there were people staring, Orson couldn’t tell. He wanted his voice to sound strong, to seem forceful and powerful. Yet all he could manage were weak, hoarse whispers. “No police. Please. Please just…get me out. Get me out of here.”

Galen simply nodded before standing up and moving back to the bathroom door. He closed it behind him, cutting off anyone’s view to Orson.

With shaking hands, Orson tried to fix himself before just closing his eyes and pulling his legs in. He didn’t want the door to ever open again. He just wanted to stay there. Facing Galen again, knowing that any front he had placed between himself and the older man was ruined, it was terrifying. He wasn’t meant to be like this, trembling like a leaf in the wind while he willed himself not to cry. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be.

But the door did open again. Orson had no idea how much time had passed as Galen knelt near him and murmured, “No police, just like you asked. Do you need—”

“No hospital,” Orson whispered, his throat not hurting as much though he was still unable to talk at his normal volume.

He took Galen’s hand, meaning to pull himself up and then hurry out and away from everyone and everything. However, his legs gave and he suddenly found Galen sweeping him up and holding him close to his chest. Orson simply curled inward, burying his face in Galen’s shirt. He had no idea if anyone was still in the coffee shop. He only looked up when he could feel Galen getting ready to put him on his feet again.

They had gone through the back and up the stairs. Galen opened up the door to the flat but didn’t let go, his arm around Orson’s shoulders. They made it into Galen’s room and it was only then that Galen started talking. He wanted to know if he was hurt, where. He kept asking who it had been. He asked if it had happened before. He wanted to know how he could help.

All Orson wanted was to be in control again, like before. The closest thing that got him to that was his anger and when Galen had asked his millionth question, Orson had screamed.

“It’s your fault! Why did you interrupt! Why!!!”

Yet the fuse was short and it wasn’t long before Orson just couldn’t do it anymore, crumbling again. He cried as hard as he could, gripping Galen like a lifeline before falling asleep due to exhaustion.

When Orson woke, it was to lying on Galen’s bed with the older one wrapped around him like a giant blanket. A part of him wanted to just run and hide. Another part of him wished the bed would swallow him whole and he’d die then and there. Another part didn’t want Galen to ever let go as he pulled Galen’s arms tighter around him.

“Orson—”

“I can’t. Not yet,” Orson interrupted. “Just…not yet.”

Thankfully, Galen remained silent and neither moved for some time. In the back of Orson’s mind, he remembered that it was a school day. The thought was only there for a second though as he remained curled up in Galen’s arms, occasionally tracing the small cuts and bruises on the knuckles of the one hand.

Galen didn’t ask any more questions and Orson honestly didn’t want to explain. However, he knew that staying silent could harm their relationship even more and Orson couldn’t have Galen leaving. Not now.

“I have two older brothers, an older sister, one younger brother, and two younger sisters,” Orson started with a soft murmur. He went slowly, the words catching at different points as he explained to Galen what had happened, been happening. Explained why. It helped that he never turned around, that he had the constant presence of Galen at his back without ever having to look the other in the face.

The talking brought up memories and thoughts he’d pushed back for years. It had him nearly tipping over again, either into another screaming tirade or never ending tears. Before he could succumb to either though, he felt the shudders and the wetness on his backside.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry I wasn’t there to help you,” Galen got out in choked sobs.

Orson almost told him it was ridiculous to think like that. They hadn’t known each other then. Yet the words caught in his throat and he could feel his own sobs coming forward. No one had ever cried for him. No one had ever cared.

They stayed in bed for a long time, most of it in silence or soft crying after Orson had finished explaining everything. After it all though, Orson was lost. He had no idea what to do next, if there was anything to do next. He’d be content with just laying there, to starve to death with Galen at his side and for that to be the end. But then Galen said something that had Orson finally twisting around. He noted how red Galen’s eyes were, how many tears he had already shed for Orson. But he focused on Galen’s words and murmured, “I can’t.”

“He should be in jail. You shouldn’t even be living with them.”

“Technically I’m not,” Orson murmured.

“That’s beside the point.”

“Galen, there’s nothing you can do. I just have to wait. Eventually I’ll be—”

“No,” interrupted Galen, taking his hand and squeezing tight. “You’re staying here. From now on. Permanently. This is your home and you’re never going back there. Never.”

“I—”

“Home,” repeated Galen, pulling Orson into a tight hug. “You’re home.”

And Orson began crying again, clenching with all his might.

The next day, Orson got up to go to school despite Galen’s protests. He still had the other job as well that he was supposed to be taking care of but Galen convinced him to skip for the day, wanting him to come straight back. Galen actually walked him all the way to school and while there, Orson forced himself to go back to his class work, knowing that he couldn’t allow himself to slack off even the slightest. However, when he walked out of school and saw Galen waiting for him, for the first time Orson broke the persona he had so carefully crafted. He allowed all the strain and pain and stress that he’d pushed back during school to come forward, and he ran to Galen without a second thought, the prior conversation with a fellow student completely gone from his head.

He hugged Galen hard and when they started to walk away, Orson wrapped an arm around Galen’s to keep him close.

“You made it.” was all Galen murmured. “You made it through the day.”

And Orson had but only by sheer force of will. Once they got back to Galen’s apartment, Orson allowed himself to weaken just a little, finding comfort in how Galen’s grip only tightened. For a while, Galen didn’t press and they both stayed in a comfortable silence, working on their respective work. However, Galen eventually said, “I know someone who might know what to do.”

Orson looked over, uncertainty washing over him. He didn’t want others to know, he couldn’t.

“It doesn’t matter if they barely notice you. What if your brother really does come back? What if he convinces your parents to force you back there or something like that? There would be nothing I could do,” Galen murmured.

His reasoning was utterly sincere; Orson could at least tell that. But it didn’t make the idea of someone else getting involved any easier. Still, Orson asked, “Who would it be?”

“I…I haven’t actually met him,” Galen admitted softly. “Back from where I’m from, I know a congressman, Bail Organa. He was the one who helped me get here actually. He met a man called Obi-Wan Kenobi in college because Kenobi was in a foreign exchange program and—”

“Galen,” Orson interrupted.

“Yes?”

“The point?”

“Right, sorry,” murmured Galen. “Obi-Wan Kenobi lives here and he’s a social worker. He…I could ask Bail if he could help us.”

“Can I think about it before I say yes?”

Galen nodded.

Orson murmured a soft thank you, returning his eyes back to his homework. However, he mentally was battling with whether to accept the help or not. Anything Galen was willing to give, Orson could take. After what he had just been through, he trusted Galen with his life. But sharing with people that Orson had no connection to or any control over was dangerous and had him fearful of losing what little control he had left.

It didn’t help that in the coming days he started to experience nightmares of events that hadn’t been in his mind for ages. By telling Galen the truth, by seeing his brother forced away and the pattern broken, Orson found that it was not so easy to keep his skin from crawling, from having his mind filled with the bad.

Galen’s presence was really the only thing that kept it all at bay. School and work was made more difficult, the fear and panic perpetually rising until Orson was finally near Galen again. It was how he began to organize his schedule. He figured out the pattern, when he would most certainly see Galen, and worked towards that goal.

However, Orson found that he had to drop the construction job for the moment. He needed more time for studying outside of school as his ability to pay attention had dropped considerably. That, and it allowed for Orson to spend more time around Galen. It didn’t matter if they didn’t say a word to each other. Just the presence was enough.

After a quick word with the coffee shop owner, Orson managed to keep that job though and, as the place was where he’d first met Galen, it had a certain comfort that other places did not.

As time passed, Galen also divulged his entire story after Orson had done so. He learned of the deaths of Galen’s parents and of Bail and the friendship there. In a way, Orson was given everything that he had been working for yet now the goal meant little. Now he was simply happy that the trust he put in Galen was mirrored back in the other. However, that didn’t mean he could immediately take up Galen’s offer either.

Two weeks passed before Orson finally came to a decision on whether to get help or not from the unknown source. The last straw ended up being when he realized his brother was waiting at the front of the school. It was a day in which Galen also had class at that time, both a curse and a blessing as he wasn’t there. Thankfully, Orson had managed to sneak back into the school building without being seen and went out a different way. However, he was careful heading back to Galen’s place, not wanting his brother to be following and to realize that Galen’s flat was just above the coffee shop.

Orson thankfully got back without incident and once Galen was there, Orson quickly spoke up.

“I’m willing to try. To see…what this friend of a friend might have to offer,” Orson murmured. “But I want to be there for the conversation. Both of them. And you can’t say any specifics! Not unless I say it’s alright.”

Galen simply gave an encouraging smile as he nodded in agreement. “Alright. That’s fine with me.”

With that in agreement, Galen called Bail Organa on a weekend sometime during midday as Bail would just be waking up where he lived and hopefully wouldn’t be to busy.

“Did I wake you?” Galen asked softly as his opening line while Orson leaned in close, wanting to hear every word.

“No, not at all, Galen” Bail replied and Orson could hear simply from the tone that the man smiled a lot and meant it. “Is everything alright?”

That was also interesting. Orson wondered if Bail was just intuitive or if he simply knew Galen’s speech patterns well enough to know if something was off.

“It’s…it’s not great,” Galen finally said. “You know the friend that I mentioned in my letters?”

Galen had already explained to Orson that he’d talked about him with Bail. Nothing to personal, just little bits here and there. Orson had been surprised but pleased that Galen would want to mention him at all to anyone.

“Orson is his name, correct?” asked Bail.

Galen nodded before quickly adding, “Yes,” as Bail couldn’t see it. “I…I was wondering if you could help me get in contact with that friend of yours. Obi-Wan Kenobi?”

There was silence for a moment, long enough to make Orson worry but then Bail spoke again, voice soft and gentle. “Is he alright?”

It took both of them a moment to realize he was referring to Orson. Bail had never met him and yet somehow his voice conveyed utter sincerity and kindness.

“Galen?”

Galen hesitated. He looked over to Orson but Orson shook his head so Galen simply murmured, “He’ ok. I just…it would be really great if we had some help.”

“Of course. I’ll get you Obi-Wan’s number and the address for his office. Just give me a second,” Bail replied. He returned after a few moments and then listed off everything they needed. “That should be it. And he’ll be happy to help you so don’t worry about that. And Galen?”

“Yes?”

“You can call me if you need help, understand? I’m here for you.”

“I know Bail. Thank you. I’ll talk to you soon,” Galen murmured.

“Alright. Good-bye and good luck.”

“Thanks,” Galen replied before ending the call. He took a deep breath and looked to Orson. “Do you want to call him now?”

Orson slowly nodded. Once this Obi-Wan person got involved, he’d be giving up a great deal of control. But he honestly wasn’t sure he could go back to the way things were. The pattern was broken and a new one set that didn’t allow him to simply gloss over the…events and keep going. It had taken years for him to close off that part of his life and he knew that with the knowledge no longer clouded and blocked by his mind, he’d be unable to live through another…event.

Because of that, he didn’t stop Galen from dialing the number and both waited until they heard a voice on the other end.

“Hello?”

“It’s Galen. Uh, Galen Erso I’m—”

“Are you Bail’s friend?” the man asked.

“Uh, yes,” Galen replied, a bit put off that the man knew of him.

“Ah, it’s good to finally speak with you. Bail’s told me a great many things. I’m Obi-Wan Kenobi though I’m sure you already knew that. May I ask why you’re calling?”

“It’s…about a friend. They’re a citizen of the UK and a minor and…and we need your help.”

They waited for a moment before Obi-Wan spoke again. This time, his voice had changed from pleasant to full on business. “Listen, I’m not at my office today but if you’d like you can come by my apartment.”

“Ask him if this can be unofficial,” murmured Orson.

“Can-can this be unofficial? At least for now?” asked Galen.

“Yes, whatever is needed. We can meet somewhere else to if a public place would be better.”

Orson quickly shook his head. This was one guy and Orson wasn’t alone if something happened. But the matter of which they’d be discussing, the last thing Orson wanted to do was be in public where someone could overhear.

However, before Galen could convey what Orson wanted, the man also added, “Or I can come to your place. Wherever it’s most comfortable.”

Orson glanced over and whispered, “Would you mind?”

Galen shook his head and quickly said, “My place.”

He listed off the address and the man said, “Alright, I can be there by two. Is that alright?”

“Yes, that’s fine,” Galen replied.

“Alright, I’ll be there soon. Good-bye.”

“Bye,” Galen said as he ended that call as well. With a heavy sigh, he turned to Orson who was doing much the same. At least that part was over but now he’d have to deal with this person and Orson honestly wasn’t sure how it would go.

The nervousness of the entire situation was getting to him as he hurried around, trying to distract and busy himself from the upcoming conversation. However, to soon it seemed that Obi-Wan was there.

Upon first inspection of the man, Orson decided his voice fit him. With his well combed beard and hair, glasses, and un-rumpled clothes, he looked completely harmless, and he seemed to only be a little older than Galen as well. It helped that he was also a couple inches shorter than Galen too (and even Orson as well since he’d hit his growth spurt early on).

“You must be Galen. A pleasure,” Obi-Wan said with a small smile.

“You too Mr. Kenobi,” Galen replied.

“Please, just Obi-Wan. And I assume you’re the friend?” he asked, eyes turning to Orson.

He nodded. “Orson,” he said as he took the offered hand.

Galen then took him to where they could sit. He’d borrowed the small coffee table from the main room and a few chairs from downstairs since he didn’t have any of his own and they all sat down, Galen’s right side pressed against Orson’s left.

Obi-Wan brought out a tape recorder and several papers as he said, “Don’t worry, I won’t be filing this away anywhere. But should you choose to continue with my help, on or off the books, it would be helpful to go back on prior sessions. Is it alright if I record?”

Orson gave a hesitant nod.

“Alright. Now, what exactly do you need help with?”

“I…I want to make sure that I can’t be forced back home,” murmured Orson.

“Where do you live now?” asked Obi-Wan.

“Anywhere, though I’ve been here for the past couple of weeks.”

“So there’s neglect then?

“Yes,” said Orson. “My parents don’t really pay me any mind.”

“Then what makes you think they’d try to force you back?” asked Obi-Wan.

“Not so much them but…one of my older brothers.”

Obi-Wan nodded slowly. “Does this brother not understand your parents are neglecting you? Not giving you what you need?”

“They’re not the problem,” Orson replied, looking at his hands. When he chanced a glance up, he noted how Obi-Wan’s posture had changed.

“So it’s the brother that’s the issue.”

Orson managed to nod.

“Are you afraid of him? Afraid of being harmed?”

Was he? Orson wasn’t sure. He was afraid of being stripped of everything again, metaphorically and physically. He was afraid of Galen no longer being there, of being alone. He wasn’t sure how to reply and with another quick look at the older man, he saw that he probably didn’t need to as he had already come to a conclusion.

“Orson, were you raped?”

The word had his entire body jolting and he just barely registered Galen placing his hand in his. He had never used that word to describe it. Just hearing it made his skin crawl, made him feel black and ruined inside and out. He couldn’t look at Obi-Wan, couldn’t look at Galen. He was drowning and found he couldn’t breathe.

The next thing he could comprehend was that Galen was holding him close, almost rocking him from side to side. With a quick glance, he saw that Obi-Wan was gone. “Where…”

“You just wouldn’t come out of it,” murmured Galen. “So he left for now. But he wants to help and he agreed to come again when you were ready.”

Orson simply nodded, closing his eyes again as he tightened his grip on Galen.

He knew that in the coming days Obi-Wan checked in but he always talked to Galen. Every time, Orson wasn’t ready. He could just tell. At first he tried to murmur the words to himself but it only sent him into a panic that only Galen seemed able to calm down.

Changing tactics, he only thought of it. And that was a little easier. _I was raped. I was raped._

Orson kept the thought going until it didn’t make his throat constrict so much, until it finally didn’t make him feel so weak. He had survived, was still surviving. He had to remember that. It was still far more difficult to say or hear the word out loud but he was doing better the next time he agreed to see Obi-Wan.

The first thing the man said to him was, “I’m terribly sorry about last time. I didn’t mean to trigger you like that.”

Orson just shook his head and murmured, “It’s alright.”

From there, the conversation basically picked up from last time as Obi-Wan got the basic information he needed. He also asked about the siblings.

“I am here for you Orson but I need to know if harm is coming to your siblings,” murmured Obi-Wan.

“The older ones are twenty-three, twenty-two, and eighteen,” said Orson without looking up. “The younger three are five, six, and eight. They’re probably not being treated great but my parents certainly pay more attention to them. For whatever reason they seemed to care a bit more after I was born.”

“And the brother—”

“He hasn’t touched them,” Orson whispered, his mouth going dry. “It’s just me. Always has been.”

“I understand,” Obi-Wan said gently. He then asked, “You turn sixteen in about three months now, correct?”

Orson nodded.

“Alright. In that case, all that can be done right now is if we took this to court. The neglect alone, and from what you described of your living situations, would likely be enough to have a clear win. The main issue is that I believe you need a stable home right now and due to your age and lack of other relatives or even a godparent, that would likely put you in the system until you’re eighteen. You wouldn’t have any say as to where you went or where you lived and I can tell that would be an issue,” Obi-Wan sighed. “Because of that, I would almost say the fastest and safest way would be to wait until you’re sixteen. At that point, there are multiple ways to become unbound to your parents.

“The first would be emancipation. However, that could be difficult as they’ll require you to be fully independent. That would mean you’d have to have a place of your own and be able to fully support yourself. Even if you succeeded in that, I doubt a court psychologist would agree that you’re emotionally stable to be alone, making the entire thing null,” Obi-wan said. “That leaves two other options. Joining the military would likely be the easiest and quickest way to gain your independence though for obvious reasons, a whole new slew of problems could be presented there. The last would be marriage and the one good thing about that is even if your brother convinced your parents to try and deny the marriage, it doesn’t automatically make it void and we could fight for that.”

 Orson nodded, his mind going through what Obi-Wan had just said. He actually had thought about going into the military. That had been his initial plan and he’d been in talk with an officer for a while, Tarkin, before he’d met Galen. Now he had to agree with Obi-Wan. Though it would get him away from his brother and end any fear of being forced back home, it would also mean leaving Galen.

“Of course,” Obi-Wan said, “if you simply came forward with the accounts of…”

Orson nodded that he could continue.

“With the accounts of rape,” he still couldn’t help but shiver though, “then your brother could be placed in jail and you could possibly remain bound to your parents but continue living as you have seeing as they seem to care so little.”

“What’s the likelihood of him getting convicted?” asked Orson.

“Well—”

“I need the truth.”

Obi-Wan let out a soft sigh. “Sadly, particularly in the case of male rape, the current belief is to not believe the victim, especially if the evidence is circumstantial at best.”

Orson had known as much but he’d needed the confirmation. He nodded in understanding as he felt Galen’s hand grip his tight.

“I understand that this is a difficult decision to make with consequences no matter what you decide. I don’t expect you to know what you’ll do right away,” Obi-Wan said. “However, if it’s alright, I would like to check in with you every few days to simply know if you’re alright. I also have several psychologists that I think could help in the meantime if you’d be willing to go to them.”

Orson simply nodded again though he didn’t say whether he would do that or not.

With that, they had a closing conversation before Obi-Wan excused himself. Orson was thankful for the man and the information he had brought, even if Orson had no idea what path he could take. At the very least, the man had forced him to admit something he’d been denying for far to long and that had to be seen as progress.

That day, Galen remained mostly silent, his words sparing and few. Orson wasn’t to surprised. He imagined that he was just as disappointed as Orson was by their choices. However, when they went to bed that night, Galen said something that shocked Orson to the core.

“I could marry you.”

Orson blinked, turning in Galen’s arms to get a good look at his friend’s face.

“I mean…you would know where you’d be. You wouldn’t have to worry about your parents ever trying to get you back, your brother. You’d have stability.”

Orson leaned in, pressing his forehead to Galen’s. “You’d do something that drastic, that serious, for me?”

“I would do anything to keep you safe.”

Hugging Galen fiercely, Orson wrapped himself around him and murmured, “Thank you,” feeling safe as he fell asleep in his best friend’s arms.


	4. Fighting Back

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A huge thank you again to everyone who has read this, left comment, or kudos. It means a lot and I'm happy to see people enjoy this :)  
> Hope you enjoy this chapter too!

Galen wondered if anyone was prepared in situations like he’d been thrust into. He wondered if anyone was ever able to come out of it feeling the same way they had moments before. For just a few seconds, Galen was sure he’d never felt angrier in his entire life, every bit of his body completely enraged and feeling like he would explode. A small part of him had murmured, so that’s where my father’s fire lay, before it eventually fizzled out.

He tried not to feel pity for Orson, the attempts actually easier than expected. Pity was the last thing Orson would want directed at him and the fact that he pushed and tried so hard made it easier for Galen to not feel that. Instead, he reminded Orson it was ok to be weak, to cry. The younger one seemed to forget that. Then again, from what Galen understood, Orson had always been fighting to be better, to be bigger, to outshine everyone else. Somehow, being near though helped Orson let out the pain, helped him to keep moving rather than bottling everything up.

Galen wasn’t sure how it specifically worked, probably only Orson’s mind could fully decipher that. But if his presence helped Orson then he knew he wouldn’t be going anywhere.

And that was why he offered it. To marry him. Orson was the first friend that Galen felt he had given just as much as he had taken, the only equal he would ever meet. It wasn’t that their knowledge was equal. Their skill sets were incredibly different. Yet there were commonalities that bound them in ways that simply couldn’t be vocalized.

So Galen would protect and help Orson in any way possible.

He wondered if that counted as a definition of love.

In the coming days, he checked again and again if Orson wished to go down that path though, not wanting to force Orson into anything he didn’t want. Yet when Orson said again and again yes, they finally went to Obi-Wan with the idea so that way they could better understand what they’d have to do next.

When they sat with Obi-Wan, it was clear the older man was a bit shocked, clearly having thought marriage would be the last possibility. However, he shook that off and focused on Orson, asking questions that Galen assumed were meant to make sure he was comfortable with the idea and that path. When Obi-Wan seemed secure in the knowledge that Orson hadn’t been forced into the idea, he began to break down what would happen next.

“You’re in your Fourth Form, correct?” asked Obi-Wan.

Orson nodded.

“Alright, so you’ll be seventeen when you leave secondary school,” Obi-Wan mused. “I’m assuming you wish to go to college.”

Orson nodded again.

“Alright, well once married, you won’t have to deal with parent involvement when deciding schools, moving, and such things like that. You’ll be able to decide what you wish to do with your education right away.” Obi-Wan looked over a few things and then asked, “Galen, when do you graduate?”

“Next year.”

“Alright. Will you be continuing your education and will you be doing it here?” asked Obi-Wan.

Galen shook his head. “I’ll be done for the foreseeable future.”

Obi-Wan hummed softly, like there might be a problem there. “Seeing as you are an American citizen whose visa will likely expire once you finish school, that could be an issue since Orson will still be finishing his secondary education.”

“I’m probably not leaving the UK any time soon,” Galen admitted, hoping that there was a way for this to work. “I’ve been offered permanent residency and I have several job offers already lined up here that I’ve been thinking about. Only now I have an even better reason to stay.”

Even before everything had happened, Galen had mentioned this to Orson in passing so it came as no surprise. However, Obi-Wan was frowning as he said, “This next year is your third though. What degree are you receiving?”

“My master’s in chemical engineering and biotechnology,” Galen replied.

“And a bachelor’s in music,” murmured Orson through a hand that was clearly hiding a fond smirk. He seemed amused by Obi-Wan’s utter shock.

“Oh yeah, and that,” Galen replied.

Obi-Wan shook his head, failing miserably as he tried to hide his surprise. “Bail told me…well that’s incredible!”

Galen simply shrugged. He always had a hard time taking people’s amazement. He knew that most couldn’t go through things as quickly as he did but he still didn’t fully get why it shocked some people so much. He just did what he did and that was it.

“Anyways,” Obi-Wan murmured, quickly moving on, “in that case citizenship shouldn’t be to big of an issue. Even if this is temporary until Orson turns eighteen, someone will have to apply for dual citizenship or something of that nature. Though I suppose permanent residency would be fine as well since this will be temporary,” Obi-Wan murmured. “There will probably be a quick look at your relationship to see if it’s genuine since Galen is a foreigner, but since you’ve already lived here for a while and you’ll have to live with each other for several more months before you can get married, I don’t see it becoming a problem.”

“So it should work?” questioned Orson.

Obi-Wan nodded. “Just a reminder though, if you’re divorced before Orson turns eighteen then he is legally bound to his parents again and not considered an adult so you’ll have to wait until after that. Otherwise though, everything should slide into place.”

Galen simply nodded in understanding though he silently admitted he didn’t like the idea of divorcing Orson. It made since, there wouldn’t be a reason to stay together afterwards. The logic was sound and Galen tried to just accept it.

However, much like the thought of kissing Orson, Galen liked the idea but refused to focus to much on it. He liked the idea of marrying Orson, even without all the other reasons behind it.

Not allowing himself to think to long on that though, he listened to Obi-Wan take them through what they needed to know though he promised to refresh them later on the finer points. After that, Galen focused on getting Orson settled. Though his apartment small, they had already made it work pretty well. The only difference now was that they knew Orson’s scattered belongings would remain there. No longer was it every few days to a week but every night that they had dinner together and Galen lay with him, arms wrapped around him in a protective embrace. Every day, if he didn’t have class, he walked Orson to and from school.

For a while, it seemed like things were going well and though there were moments when Orson had difficulty dealing with a particularly bad dream or thought, Galen was always there to help. However, Orson came forward with some worrisome information after nearly a month had passed.

“He’s been coming around a lot. I’ve been able to avoid him but…I don’t think I’ll be lucky every time,” Orson murmured, his tone showing that there was only one _he_ Orson could be referring to.

“What can I do?” asked Galen softly.

“Nothing. Even if I came forward with accusations, no one would believe me. There’s no evidence,” Orson murmured.

“But you’re in danger.”

“I can’t just quit school,” said Orson with a shake of his head. “Besides, it would be like admitting defeat.”

“But I—”

Galen stopped as Orson took his hand and squeezed. “You can’t do anything. We’ll just have to wait.”

That was the last thing Galen wanted to hear. His mind tried to come up with a solution; he was usually so good at it. Yet all possibilities came to dead ends and Galen had no way of reaching a conclusion. All they had was luck which could run out at any moment.

Yet they were able to last for several more weeks without incident. Obi-Wan still checked in regularly, always trying to be helpful and suggest anything to help Orson, particularly his mental health. Most of the time Orson didn’t take it though, probably being to stubborn. It was honestly a miracle he’d accepted Obi-Wan’s help at all. However, Galen at least knew small ways in which to help Orson, to make him smile or laugh. All Galen wanted was for Orson to be safe, but their luck did run out when over two months had passed.

Galen honestly didn’t know what had taken the brother so long. Perhaps Galen really had scared him away from the area around the coffee shop or perhaps Orson had just been that good at avoiding him. Either way, it was obvious that the passage of time had made the man desperate when Galen got the call.

It was the middle of the day and he’d just finished a morning class. Back home and in the middle of studying, it was honestly surprising that Galen heard the phone ring, usually completely drowning out the world if he got lost in his head. Yet something pushed him to go and answer it. As he did, he was unable to get out a single word, Orson immediately speaking.

“I need you. Galen, please I need you.”

“What happened?” asked Galen, standing up straight as he mentally took note of Orson’s strained voice.

“They don’t know I’m calling you. I just need you. Please I don’t want to be alone. Please—”

“Where are you?” Galen interrupted.

“At school.”

“I’ll be there as fast as I can. It’s alright Orson. I’ll be there. I promise,” Galen hurried before ending the call and practically sprinting out his door.

He had no idea what could have happened, only that Orson sounded on the verge of breaking, that he needed him. It was all Galen required to motivate him to push each step harder and harder than the last. He ran by people and across streets, completely ignoring those around him. Orson, he just had to get to Orson…

He managed to get to the school and it was only then that he paused. Where would they likely be? The office?

Galen rushed in, looking for signs to the office which he quickly followed. Upon entering, a secretary started to talk to him but he had already drowned her out. A screen had been pulled over the window of the principal’s door but it wasn’t down all the way. Galen could just barely make out Orson on the other side, skin practically white with a small cut on his chin. That was all he needed.

“Sir!”

But again, the words bounced off him, entirely single minded as he ran behind the desk and rushed into the room. He just barely registered the other people yelling at him but it didn’t matter as Orson was in his arms in seconds.

Now that he could finally feel Orson, that he was alive and breathing, Galen’s legs gave out. He was exhausted from how hard he’d pushed himself to get there, and Orson was certainly in no state to hold them both up. They fell to their knees as Galen felt Orson start to break. No one seemed to know what to do as no one tried to pull them apart. Galen simply held him tight and Orson buried his sobs into the crook of Galen’s neck.

When Orson’s cries had ebbed somewhat, Galen pulled him back to look him in the face. “I’m here. I’m here. You’re safe.”

But Orson shook his head though the movement was hard to distinguish as every part of him was shaking. “He got in the fucking school Galen. He got in and-and-and—”

“You don’t have to tell me,” whispered Galen. “I’ve got you no matter what.”

Orson just let his head fall against Galen’s chest, body still shaking as Galen finally noted that the other adults were trying to get his attention.

“Sir, do you know Orson Krennic?” asked one, a man in uniform.

Galen nodded, arms automatically tightening around Orson. “I’m his friend,” he murmured.

“You’re name?” asked another officer.

“Galen Erso,” he said softly.

“Mr. Erso,” said the other, “Orson has refused to say anything since he was found. Perhaps your being here will help us to get a statement. We’ve already tried contacting his parents but so far we haven’t gotten anything.”

Galen glanced back down at Orson only to see the younger shake his head.

“I can’t. I can’t _I can’t_ —”

“You don’t have to,” whispered Galen. “Not right now.”

“Sir,” said an officer, “we’ve managed to get several statements from other students but it seems that no one actually saw what happened. It’s important that we—”

“Can’t you see he’s not up to it?” hissed Galen.

“Maybe so but then we still need his parents or a family member here so we can brief them on the situation and have them plan to come down for a statement later on.”

Galen shook his head though, his voice soft and pained. “They won’t. They won’t come. They won’t care.”

He looked back at Orson and noticed that he’d actually passed out, all energy spent. Galen moved his arms somewhat so that the other was more comfortable.

“We have officers headed to their residence and place of work. We’ll have one of them here soon,” one officer said, sounding like they thought Galen had been lying. Galen just shook his head though and pulled himself up with Orson in his arms.

“Sir you can’t—”

“You won’t let us leave, fine,” Galen said. He imagined that no matter what happened at that moment, Orson would remain under, his entire body spent, but Galen whispered anyways as they sat down. “But I’m not leaving him. Besides, you’ll see soon enough.”

He then refocused his attention on Orson as the two police officers and principal bickered back and forth as to what should be done. Galen honestly didn’t care as long as he wasn’t thrown out and Orson wasn’t forced to do anything he didn’t want to.

It took some time but surprisingly, progress was made and Galen was faced with Orson’s mother for the first time. He could tell the slight resemblance physically, but from the way she acted, it had Galen’s entire body shivering. She barely even glanced at her son, her body suggesting more annoyed than anything.

She talked with the officers and principal off to the side, a moment that seemed go by far to fast. Suddenly, she was gone again and an officer was coming back over to them. The look on his face suggested that he was shocked by the conversation and Galen didn’t doubt for a second that further investigation might occur. However, for the moment, all he did was hand Galen a card with a number on it.

“You’ve been given permission to take him home. Please, once he feels like talking, have him come down to the station,” the officer said.

Galen only silently nodded and pocketed the card before jostling Orson ever so slightly.

“Hey, I’m getting you out of here. Ok? Come on.” He urged Orson to stand though he was really supporting him almost as much as before.

Galen guided Orson out of the building, thankful that it seemed classes were still in session as there was no throng to force themselves through. Once outside, Galen murmured, “Is it alright to call Obi-Wan? It’s only because I don’t think I can carry you all the way to my apartment. You don’t have to tell him anything.”

Orson silently nodded and Galen managed to take them to a bench outside the school where they sat and waited. There, Galen assessed the damage he could see. The area around the cut on his chin was beginning to bruise and there were several scrapes on his neck, likely caused by nails. His left wrist was slightly swollen and turning yellow too, hopefully sprained and not broken.

It didn’t take long for Obi-Wan to get there and the entire time it was clear he wanted to press. However, all he did ask was if Orson needed anything. When he shook his head, Obi-Wan added, “What about your wrist? I can at least stop and grab you something for it.”

But Orson shook his head, clearly wanting to get back as soon as possible.

Once they arrived, Obi-Wan turned to Galen and added, “Please keep me updated.”

Galen simply nodded and carefully guided Orson out of the car and into the building. When they were in Galen’s apartment, Orson made a beeline for the bed and Galen went with him. They lay on their sides with Orson’s face pressed to Galen’s chest and for a while, nothing was said.

However, when Orson did look up at him, Galen was shocked to see a small smile. It was pained and broken and just a little bit bitter but still very much there. Before Galen could question it though, Orson explained.

“I fought back. I managed to fight back,” whispered Orson. The opposing feelings were obvious. Orson should never have been put in a situation where fighting back was considered an improvement.

But Galen hugged him anyways and murmured, “I’m proud of you. I’m so proud of you.”

They lay for a bit longer until Orson wished to take a shower. Though it seemed that more of Orson’s strength had returned, Galen remained near and waited by the bathroom door just in case something occurred. Eventually, the door opened again and Galen looked up to see Orson standing above him, looking far calmer than he had.

Galen pushed himself off the ground and gripped Orson’s shoulder. “What do you need?” murmured Galen.

Orson looked away for a moment, eyes roaming the apartment. “Let me just work. For a bit.”

Galen nodded and they ended up sitting with their backs against the bed and sides pressed to each other. It wasn’t an uncommon position but Galen found he couldn’t bring himself to concentrate. He acted like it so that he didn’t annoy Orson but he was really waiting for Orson to speak about what had happened.

Eventually he did. “He managed to get in,” murmured Orson. He shuttered once before he added, “I was in shock, didn’t know what to do for a few seconds. He slammed me into a wall. It’s how I got this,” said Orson as he touched the cut on his chin. “But I thought of you. I thought about what we’re working for. I fought back and when that wasn’t enough…I screamed. I’ve never done that in front of him. I actually scared him. Brought others. I _fought_.”

“I’m proud of you,” Galen said, gently tugging Orson so that his head rested on Galen’s shoulder. “I’m so proud of you.”

He didn’t push any farther than that but the next day Galen couldn’t help but tighten his grip around Orson so that the other couldn’t get up.

“What if he comes back,” whispered Galen.

“He won’t. Not this soon anyways.”

“You should rest.”

“I did that yesterday,” Orson replied. “Besides, I don’t want to give the school any more reason to call after my parents or to grow suspicious. I need to go.”

“Then at least let me walk with you,” said Galen.

Orson nodded and with that, Galen finally loosened his grip on him.

They headed out, Orson wrapped around Galen’s arm like he usually was until they reached the school. Both were a bit more reluctant to let go this time but they did and Orson hugged him once before quickly hurrying back into the school.

That left Galen time to wait. Even with Orson’s reasoning and reassurance, Galen couldn’t help but be on edge, knowing he wouldn’t be able to breathe easily until he saw Orson again. He had never been more scared in his life for his friend and he would have gone straight back to get Orson after school if it hadn’t been for a call from Obi-Wan.

“Galen, I need your help.” Despite the words, the tone of voice was rather calm, keeping Galen from going straight into a panic.

“With what?”

“Whatever happened yesterday, it gave the police reason to look into Orson’s family. Thankfully, I had a feeling that it could be a possibility and I’ve gotten myself charged with looking after all the minors. The police have also been talking to the siblings but Orson isn’t giving them much. He told me he won’t talk unless you come in,” Obi-Wan replied.

“Is that allowed?”

“Technically, I’m his temporary guardian right now so yes. You don’t have to worry about them pushing you apart for now.”

“Alright, tell me where you are and I’ll be there as quickly as possible,” Galen said.

Once he had the address down, Galen hurried through Cambridge, taking a bus for part of the way until he arrived at the precinct. Obi-Wan and an officer, the same one from yesterday, were waiting for him once he walked in.

“I believe you’ve met before. This is Cody, a good friend of mine. He’ll be helping with this case from the police’s side,” Obi-Wan said.

Galen simply nodded and took the offered hand, hoping to get to Orson as quickly as possible.

The room he was taken to wasn’t what Galen imagined interrogation rooms to be though he supposed it could have been because of the situation or Orson’s age. When inside, Orson was there waiting for him. He had a mask on that bled ‘annoyed’ more than anything but the moment he saw Galen, it dropped, showing pure relief at seeing Galen there.

“I’ll give you two a moment,” Cody said, closing the door behind him.

The moment it shut, Orson was up and hugging Galen tight. “Thank you for getting here.”

“You asked for me so I came,” said Galen with a small smile. It quickly dropped though as he asked, “What’s going on right now?”

“Something that probably should have happened a long time ago,” sighed Orson with a shake of his head. “The one that just left, Officer Fett, he’s very intuitive. He knows I’m not telling him everything but I just…I couldn’t without you here.”

“It’s ok. We’ll get through this,” Galen promised as he squeezed Orson’s hand.

Orson simply nodded and only a few more seconds passed before Cody came back.

Cody asked few questions, seeming to prefer that Orson just explain at his own pace. Galen waited silently as he heard things that Orson had already told him long ago. However, when the officer finally did ask questions, it was geared to what had happened at the school. Other students had heard the scream and they had gotten a vague description of the man that had run off but nothing more.

Here was where Galen could feel he was really needed as he gripped Orson hard. He could tell that Orson needed the support, largely because he was in the mindset that the officer wouldn’t believe him.

Yet the only other question Cody asked after Orson got going was, “How old were you the first time?”

“Six.”

After that, Cody had murmured a soft thank you and left, leaving Galen alone to hold Orson as tightly as he could. A long time passed, almost worryingly so, but no one had come to pull Galen and Orson apart so they didn’t argue, allowing the silence to wash over them to the point that they both even dozed off, wrapped in the other’s arms.

The next time Galen was fully awake, it was to Obi-Wan entering.

“What’s happening?” asked Orson, awake as well. The look on his face was again more irritated than anything else but Galen knew that underneath there was a fear connected with the uncertainty of what Obi-Wan would say.

With a sigh, Obi-Wan sat across from them and said, “A deeper investigation will occur, both into the crimes your brother committed and your parents, but for the moment, your two younger sisters will be placed in an orphanage. Your younger brother has been placed with another social worker and I was able to convince them to let me take you for a time.”

Galen felt that he should be thankful about that but something about Obi-Wan’s tone kept him from celebrating. Orson picked up on that too and asked, “What’s the catch?”

“For the moment, there is not a facility to house your younger brother and you so, if the investigation is finished with the conclusion that you and your younger siblings shouldn’t be placed back in the custody of your parents, you will be moved to a different city perhaps even a different county where you will be put in the system until you are eighteen.”

Orson was immediately shaking his head. “You can’t let that happen. I can’t leave!”

“And with any luck, you won’t have to,” Obi-Wan assured him. “I am trying to find arrangements that will keep you here but it is difficult. Despite how often this government likes to stick its nose into other’s business and claim that it’s helping, very often the state does concern itself more with what it can afford to lose than something like a child’s mental health. In this case, it looks like they can’t afford to keep you here in Cambridge. The one saving grace is that these things also take time and you should turn sixteen before a definite decision is made with the court. If you plan on going down the path you chose with Galen.”

That at least had Orson relaxing somewhat. “Do I have to stay with you?”

“Technically yes,” Obi-Wan replied, “but as long as I’m able to check in every day, I can permit you to stay with Galen.”

Orson nodded, showing he’d prefer that.

“Alright, in that case you’re free to go for now. I’ll keep you updated on what’s happening and if they want you for questioning again or anything else of that nature.”

Galen and Orson nodded in understanding as they were finally allowed to leave the precinct. Obi-Wan drove them both back to Galen’s place and along the way, he again pressed Orson to talk to someone about what had happened to him. Technically, Obi-Wan could have made it mandatory but he seemed to understand that forcing Orson to do anything would only fail miserably. Because of that, the car ride was mostly filled with Obi-Wan’s suggestions and Orson’s shaking head. By the time they arrived back at the apartment, it was already late in the evening and both quickly said their good-byes to Obi-Wan. Once alone, Galen started to get something for them to eat as he finally asked, “Are you still…ok? With going along with the previous plan?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” asked Orson.

“I don’t know…I just thought that with what happened recently…I don’t know. I just don’t want to feel like I’m pressuring you into anything,” Galen murmured.

However, Orson actually laughed, a sound that had Galen’s entire body relaxing. “You couldn’t pressure me if you tried,” grinned Orson. “Logically speaking, this is still the best path that I have since the government would probably just screw everything up. Besides, who doesn’t wish to marry their best friend?”

Galen blinked. He had thought of Orson as his best friend, perhaps Orson had been thinking the same thing. But the other had never said it and the warmth that surged through Galen was unlike anything else.

“What’s with that silly expression?” asked Orson with a raised eyebrow.

“Nothing,” Galen murmured, the smile still very much there. As he turned his eyes back to the food, he added, “You know, you’re my best friend too. Right?”

“Of course,” Orson replied, sounding extra arrogant. However, it didn’t matter. Galen heard through it and could tell that Orson was just as happy at hearing it as Galen was.

Galen’s smile only grew as he continued to fix them dinner.

After that, everything seemed to be going well and exactly how it needed to be. Obi-Wan’s help also made it go smoother and was the only thing keeping them together, something which both could appreciate. However, a week before Orson turned sixteen, Obi-Wan called with news that was like some hellish blessing.

For a while now, the police hadn’t been able to find Orson’s second oldest brother. He had disappeared and no one in the family or apparent friends had known where he’d gone. That had left a small amount of fear in Galen and Orson as well, knowing that he could show up again. However, Obi-Wan called with confirmation that he would never be back.

“He killed himself about three days ago,” Obi-Wan said. “Parents confirmed it was him. He’s gone.”

Galen had felt immediate relief at that, though a small thread of guilt still remained even for someone as awful as _him_. It was Orson though that Galen focused on. He held Orson close as a hysterical laugh escaped his mouth, quickly turning into panicked breathing before he resorted to sobs of pain and finally relief.

“It’s alright. It’s alright,” Galen simply murmured again and again. He continued to hold Orson close, riding the waves of Orson’s emotion with him, showing that no matter what, he’d always be there for him. He’d always be his friend.

There was still the fear that the court ruling would come and Orson would be taken away but with how hard Obi-Wan was working and with the real threat gone, Galen felt that he could finally relax again. Orson seemed to feel the same way and many of their days quickly evolved into them simply sitting pressed against each other, going through pages and pages of homework and school projects as they could finally concentrate on normal things people their age worried about.

And when Galen woke up on Orson’s sixteenth birthday to find his best friend still wrapped in his arms, still pressed against him and warm, it was all Galen could have ever wanted. Because of that, he asked the only question that mattered.

“Want to get married?”

Orson snorted and hugged him tight in response. “Of course.”


	5. A Proposal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Final chapter! Hopefully you guys like it. I had a blast writing this and I thank those for reading, commenting, and leaving kudos. Enjoy <3

Looking back on his Fourth Form, Orson wondered how he had made it through. A part of him had wanted to give up so many times, had felt like breaking and never putting himself back together. But he knew why he hadn’t. Because of Galen and his friendship. It was all Orson had ever wanted, even if he hadn’t known it until he’d met the man. With the school year coming to a close and Orson still likely to get good grades despite everything that had happened along with the fact that he would be able to manage everything education wise after this, Orson knew that his life would finally be able to go in the direction that he wanted it to go. However, the distraction of Galen Erso was something that Orson knew would likely twist his future into something that he couldn’t plan.

He didn’t mind it though, instead practically looking forward to it, even if they were still saying the marriage was only as friends.

They agreed that they’d get married five days after Orson’s sixteenth birthday. Orson figured that what little they needed to get together before then would easily be taken care of with Obi-Wan’s help before they finally signed the official marriage documents. However, Galen brought up something that Orson had honestly forgotten about.

“Bail sent them. His apologies for not being able to make it,” joked Galen though Orson could tell that he was really very nervous. “It was his idea actually, since we are supposed to make this look real and everything.”

“Right, of course,” Orson murmured though he couldn’t help but feel his heart leap as Galen placed the small, simple ring in his palm.

“I mean, since we’re just signing the documents and everything, you can technically put yours on now-or we can wait! Just…you know…whatever you want to…” Galen trailed off as Orson picked up Galen’s ring and grabbed Galen’s hand. He slipped it on and then held out his own ring.

Orson smiled. “Your turn.”

“Oh, right,” Galen murmured with a small smile as he copied Orson’s move.

For a moment, they both just stared at their respective rings before looking back to each other with a small smile. Orson couldn’t help but be somewhat giddy. It was almost coming to pass. They were actually doing this and then he’d be free. A small part of him couldn’t help but notice that freedom seemed to be tying himself to Galen yet there was no bitterness in that thought, simply pure joy.

Soon, the day came and they both went down to the courthouse with Obi-Wan and Obi-Wan’s ward, Anakin, as they would be the two witnesses. Orson only interacted with Anakin a short time but he became incredibly happy that Obi-Wan had allowed him to live with Galen while he was technically under Obi-Wan’s care. He was pretty sure that staying just one night under the same roof as Anakin would have ended in at least several broken bones and one of them throttling the other.

But Orson focused on those thoughts briefly when it came down to finally signing the marriage licenses.

Orson had to remind himself why he was doing this as his pen left the paper. Glancing over, he watched Galen’s pen lift up as well and Orson desperately felt the urge to throw himself at his friend. He could go all out, he was of age, Galen was _his husband_. But all he did was quickly peck Galen on the cheek before wrapping him up in a hug, hiding his face from him.

He didn’t let his feelings dampen it though. He was free, he didn’t have to worry about anyone coming for him again, his parents, his brother, the government. Orson had complete control of his life finally. He had what he wanted but as he left the courthouse, he had a distinct feeling that it wasn’t all there.

Something should have changed. Something obvious. But almost immediately they went back to their usual routines, only with no heaviness in their hearts or minds that threatened to dampen their spirits. Yet Orson wanted…more. But by having more than he ever thought possible, he was afraid to ruin it, to break what they had formed. A small, dark part of him that refused to be vocalized was what really held him back. He couldn’t do anything, shouldn’t do anything. Galen was only doing this as a friend. It didn’t matter what had happened in the past. He was doing this for Orson, as a _friend_. Nothing more.

Besides, how could anyone want him after everything that had happened? After knowing the things he knew?

Talking with someone probably would have helped. He should have taken the offers that Obi-Wan gave him, yet Orson was simply to stubborn. It had taken all his willpower to let Obi-Wan help him in the first place and now that he was free, he honestly refused everything else. Yet clearly something was wrong as Orson bottled up and discontent and tried to be satisfied with their lasting friendship.

He finished his Fourth Form of secondary school and Galen finished his (technically) second year of college. The summer that followed was by far the best Orson had ever experienced. He had long since forgone trying to maintain the persona he had at school. With everything that had happened, it was undoubtedly broken beyond repair, though it didn’t really matter as he’d soon be leaving anyways for far greener pastures. Because of that, practically all time was spent doing what Orson wanted, which largely connected to simply being with Galen.

But he still wanted more.

Then his final year of secondary school began and, with the want to finish school at his best, his focus on work and his advanced classes did help to get his mind off of things that would never change. But winter break broke that concentration as Orson and Galen were invited to Bail’s for Christmas. This time, Galen accepted the invitation and Orson went with, both wanting to show their thanks for Bail’s help no matter how small. That, and Orson was curious to meet the friend that Galen had so sparingly spoken of.

Obi-Wan ended up being there as well (along with Anakin which Orson made a very obvious point of avoiding) so it wasn’t like they didn’t know anyone. Orson actually enjoyed himself, being in America for the first time. A part of him was unable to keep from trying to impress those around him of course (which he succeeded in anyways) as he shook hands with people clearly of power and knowledge that Bail knew.

But he always made sure to go back to Galen who was obviously not as comfortable in the throng of people. The only time Orson actually stayed away was because Galen was talking with a young congresswoman who Anakin had been eyeing all night, only finally getting the courage to talk to her when Galen was around (of course).

But other than that, Orson remained by his side, enjoying himself until he had practically met and talked with everyone there. With that all done and Orson feeling content with the impression he had made, his eyes began to roam towards the glances and body language of couples, unable to stop himself from comparing and contrasting the way he and Galen acted around each other. He watched one wife hang on her husband’s arm, watched a woman look at her partner in utter adoration. He watched a man momentarily lean his head on his husband’s shoulder with an exasperated sigh. He watched Bail and his wife Breha, the way they looked at each other, smiled at each other, occasionally held the other’s hand.

And Orson had that but he didn’t.

He wanted more but couldn’t say it.

The only thing that made it worse was how Galen noticed the change, the resigned looks and discomfort. He asked if he was alright, squeezed his hand like he always did, and all Orson wanted to do was pull him into a kiss. But doubt festered in his mind and all he said was, “Just a bit tired. Still not used to the time change,” and that was it. If he thought Galen had a strange expression, his mind clearly pushed past that. It had to be his own imagination.

Upon getting back to the UK and with both getting closer to finishing school, talk began of where Orson planned to go to college. The thing was that they talked about it like it really mattered, like it mattered where Galen would work, like it mattered where they got a flat because they would be continuing to live together. But why would they? Once Orson was eighteen, there wouldn’t be any need. Technically, even now there was no reason to force Galen to move with Orson. After all, they didn’t have to actually be living together.

Yet with Galen’s insistence, they planned where they would live almost like they were really starting a life together, even though Orson knew it would only be temporary. They argued over what they would need when moving, over furniture and stupid things like paint. And Orson continued to sleep in Galen’s arms every night.

But there was still that unspeakable wall right there, that expiration date.

His seventeenth birthday should have been a happy thing. After all, he was about to finish secondary school and this was his second birthday where he had someone to celebrate it with. But the feeling was bittersweet as he knew it meant he had a year left. A year before they wouldn’t need to be married and they’d get divorced and then Orson wouldn’t be tied to Galen anymore.

It should have been what freedom was. Instead, it felt like the exact opposite, like the moment their marriage was broken, Orson would be succumbing to something inside him that would only continue in taking him farther from Galen.

That summer, they moved to London. They went shopping for furniture, got a proper place with a living room and kitchen and bedroom and bathroom. They put things up, making the place truly theirs. Galen got a job at a biotech company there and Orson would be going to school at the Bartlett School of Architect at UCL. He had made it. A top school, scholarships, able to study what he really loved. He was making his life what he’d always wanted.

But he wanted more.

Readjusting their pattern, the days started with Orson and Galen waking up next to each other, one headed off for school and the other for work. Orson would then go to Galen’s work between classes; they’d eat lunch together, and then part ways again. At about five each day, they’d meet back at their apartment, eat dinner, relax, talk, watch something, it didn’t matter as long as they were together. Then they would fall asleep by each other again, only to wake up and start once more. The repetition, occasionally marked with surprises that they gave each other, was something that Orson was content with. What hurt was knowing that by the end of the school year, it would end.

And then as if to make matters worse, Orson met Lyra.

She was two years older than Galen and a colleague in his department, giving them plenty of opportunities to interact. Orson wanted to like her, she was kind and nice and interesting to talk to but there was something keeping him from that. He could see. He could see that, though maybe not her specifically, someone like her would eventually come into Galen’s life. And then Galen wouldn’t be his, not anymore, not ever.

Orson tried to except the idea, to make himself see what the marriage had all been about, but the thoughts continued to fester and grow and it became harder and harder to hide as his eighteenth birthday approached.

One of two things would happen, Orson could tell that. Either he’d manage to repress it all, breaking and darkening his heart as he did it. He would take all his emotion and ball it up, so dense that it would eat away at his being until the day he died. Or he would explode at Galen, violent and broken and either way their friendship would be gone. Of that he was sure.

And his birthday grew closer.

And he wanted more.

He’d be eighteen in two months.

He didn’t want anything to change.

One month.

He wanted Galen.

Two weeks.

He broke.

They’d just been sitting at the table, talking, casual, and then Galen had mentioned Lyra and Orson had cracked. He dropped the utensils, hands shaking, body trembling. Tears welled in his eyes due to how hard it hurt, trying to keep himself together. But then Galen, who had rushed around the table the moment he saw something was wrong, just barely touched his shoulder and that was all Orson needed.

He screamed into his hands, screamed and sobbed, every fear, every doubt coming forward. His mind worked against him, forcing him to believe that Galen didn’t want him, that he never had and never would, not in that way. They would get their divorce and then slowly drift away down their respective paths. And Orson couldn’t stand that, he couldn’t survive it, not the him that cared about his best friend, that loved Galen with all his heart.

“I don’t want you to go!” he finally yelled at Galen despite how he had kept pushing him away from comforting him. “I don’t want to get a divorce but we will and you’ll be gone and I can’t I can’t _I can’t_!”

Orson curled in on himself, fully expecting that the next time he looked up Galen would be gone, just like he’d known would happen from the very beginning. When his sobs finally eased and the tears starting to dry, he looked up, ready for what little was left of his heart to be gone. Instead, his eyes found Galen who was still there, even closer than before.

“Orson, why didn’t you say anything?” whispered Galen as he pulled him into his arms.

He tried to fight him but he was to exhausted and wasn’t strong enough to push him away. “Stop saying things. Stop talking,” he wept. “You’re supposed to leave me! You’re supposed to be gone!”

Orson closed his eyes. Maybe if he just closed himself off completely, then Galen would comprehend. But instead he heard a small noise escape Galen’s lips, something akin to understanding. But if he understood, why wasn’t he gone? That wasn’t how it was supposed to go. Everything was supposed to break apart.

Instead, Galen’s arms tightened around him like they always did. “I’m so stupid.”

Orson shook his head, confused and shaking. “No…why would…you’re not. Why—”

“God, I should have listened to Bail. I shouldn’t have waited,” murmured Galen and the words had Orson finally looking up again in confusion.

“What? What are you—”

“I didn’t want to hurt you,” Galen whispered. “I didn’t want to push you in a way that you weren’t ready for and then when it just never came up…I just thought you weren’t interested and…Orson I’m so sorry.”

Orson shook his head though, confused as ever. “I don’t—”

But he wasn’t able to finish the thought as Galen pressed their lips together. When Galen pulled away, Orson couldn’t help his wide-eyed expression. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. Something had to happen. Something that would make everything come crashing down—

“I love you,” whispered Galen. “I’ll always love you and I was fine with letting that stay as a friendship but I won’t ever let you go if that’s what you wish.”

Orson couldn’t help but start trembling again. For months-years!-his mind had been working against him, pushing him away, only for Galen to come out and turn everything upside down.

Or maybe now things were right side up.

“I don’t want a divorce. I don’t want you to go,” whispered Orson as he shook his again, finally grabbing hold of Galen. Event then though, he expected something else to happen, for Galen to change his mind, anything.

Instead, Galen said, “Then I won’t.”

Orson looked, looked past his own fear and doubt. He looked at what Galen was, not what his mind was trying to shape him to be. He saw Galen and the truth in his words and he kissed him back, hard and desperate for a response. And Galen did respond with his own lips, pulling Orson closer.

When they stopped, Orson moved his head to the crook of Galen’s neck, tears starting to come again despite how much he wished to stop them. “I love you. I love you so much.”

Galen repeated the words, holding him just as tight.

The food was then forgotten as Galen pulled him up and took him to bed and kissed him again and again as Orson curled around him. The thing that was missing was there while the darkness had fallen away. Galen loved him, despite what had happened, despite his past. He wanted him, he was choosing to stay with him, and Orson was tied to Galen.

His eighteenth birthday came, it went, and nothing changed.

Orson woke up with Galen still right beside him, just like they always had. Only this time Orson felt like he could really say the words, that they meant something now. “You’re my husband.”

Galen smiled at that and kissed him. “And you’re my husband,” he murmured against Orson’s lips.

Orson kissed him back until he murmured, “I’m sorry for blowing up on you. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”

“We both probably should have said something. I was wrong too,” Galen replied.

“Have you…have you really been thinking about this? For that long?”

“In a way,” murmured Galen. “I didn’t want to fully admit how much I liked being married to you, how much I didn’t want it to stop. Even then, I thought for sure that it wasn’t my place to say anything. Bail told me that I should but…I was afraid.”

Orson shook his head. “I think we just might be some of the smartest dumb people to ever be born.”

Galen laughed at that, the sound warm and sending a pleasant shiver through Orson.

Tucking himself into Galen’s arms, neither having work or school to go to, Orson stopped thinking “I’m lying with my friend” or “I’m in my friend’s arms”. Galen was his friend, his best friend. Orson now knew that would never change. But now he felt he actually had a right to think “I’m with my husband” and even just “I have a husband”. Simply moving his thoughts to that gave him a wonderfully thrilling feeling. Orson wasn’t sure if he’d ever been able to breath as easily as he did now.

But knowing that he loved Galen and that the feeling was mutual, that their marriage would not end, there was more Orson wished for, more that he hadn’t been able to have before then. Early on in his life, marriage had never been a part of his plan, but now he wanted people to know, he didn’t want it to be just a passing thing with nothing to mark it.

“I want to get married,” whispered Orson as he interlaced his fingers with Galen’s. He couldn’t help but laugh at Galen’s confused look. “Again.”

“We’re a bit young to be renewing our vows, don’t you think?”

“We didn’t even say vows,” Orson reminded him. “All we did was sign a piece of paper. I want to have vows, to say ‘I do’. I want to see you in a tux and everything.”

“Who would we invite?” asked Galen softly.

“Anyone, everyone. I don’t care,” murmured Orson. “If we’re staying in this marriage, then I want a wedding day to look back on. I want photos that I can place around this apartment or wherever we move to.”

“That’s a pretty heavy order,” chuckled Galen. “But I wouldn’t mind it.”

“Really?” asked Orson.

“No, I’d be happy with whatever you wished for,” Galen replied. He took Orson’s hand and kissed it softly. “Orson, will you marry me?”

It was a silly line and perhaps not really necessary, but Orson’s heart leapt at hearing it anyways. “Yes,” he replied before kissing Galen again simply because he could.

And Orson got to plan his wedding. A wedding not built on necessity or desperation but on want and love and it was all Orson could have hoped for. There would be an actual honeymoon, they would have an anniversary together, memories and photos.

Both agreed to keep the simple but beautiful rings Bail had gifted them with though they planned to add some engraving, something special and specific to each other. On Orson’s ring, they would engrave a revised chemical equation that Galen had created. For Galen’s ring, it would have Orson’s favorite architectural design. The choice of engravings rather than the other’s name or just a quote had been Galen’s idea and Orson had loved it immensely.

Other than that though, Galen gave Orson complete control over the planning. Orson of course ran everything by Galen but for the most part, Galen seemed content with letting Orson have his way with everything, even if he let out exhausted sighs as Orson compared colors on him to try and figure out what color the tux should be (“Because we are definitely not just doing black and black because it’s boring and predictable and this should be special for both of us”).

For the first few weeks, Orson was afraid that something would happen, internally or externally. He thought it might come crashing down and his happiness would be stripped from him and that Galen would be gone. But Galen didn’t leave and neither was he taken away. He chose to stay and Orson remained with him and everything wasn’t just okay or passable but honestly completely perfect.

With Orson actually getting the entire ceremony into motion, he got to hear the reactions from the few people they knew. Mainly that was Bail and Obi-Wan, the first not being surprised at all and the latter again just blinking and staring, shocked at the news before he finally smiled and congratulated them. The person that Orson really wanted to see the reaction of though was Lyra and he made Galen promise him that he would be the one to invite her, knowing that Galen really did value her friendship and would like her there.

Orson managed to track her down before heading to his usual lunches with Galen in his office one day. She was sitting in the company’s small cafeteria, focused on reading a book when she glanced up at Orson’s approach. They had seen each other plenty, what with his constant visiting with Galen and that she and his husband (the thought still made Orson feel giddy) worked in the same department. However, he wasn’t surprised that her face betrayed shock. This was the first time he had ever approached her after all.

He stopped in front of her and let out a heavy sigh. “I’ve been absolutely horrible to you Lyra. I would like you to know that it was through no fault of your own and I would much prefer us to be friends.”

“Orson I don’t—”

“There’s no point in trying to pretend I wasn’t,” interrupted Orson.

For a moment, they simply stared at each other and then finally Lyra nodded. “If I’m being honest, I think you’re a right bastard. Though clearly I’ve misjudged if you’re talking to me now.”

“For Galen,” Orson supplied as he pulled out a card and set it in front of her. “There are few people that Galen would probably consider a friend but he holds you very dearly to his heart, even though you’ve only known each other for a little less than a year. Because of that, I know he’d appreciate you being there. And us getting along.”

She looked down at the slip of paper before looking up again with a curious expression on her face, like she was trying to figure Orson out, to see if there was another angle.

But she finally nodded and allowed a small smile to show. “Alright Orson, let’s see how this goes then. Congratulations by the way.”

Orson simply nodded his head in acknowledgement before turning on his heels. Heading towards Galen’s office, Orson couldn’t help but smile as his heart felt whole.


End file.
